"I blotted the last page of my manuscript and sank back, feeling more or less of a spent force. After incredible sweat of the old brow the thing seemed to be in pretty fair shape, and I was just reading it through and debating whether to bung in another paragraph at the end, when there was a tap at the door and Jeeves appeared.'Mrs Travers, sir, on the telephone.'
'Oh?' I said. Preoccupied, don't you know.
'Yes, sir. She presents her compliments and would be glad to know what progress you have made with the article which you are writing for her.'
'Jeeves, can I mention men's knee-length underclothing in a woman's paper?'
'No, sir.'
'Then tell her it's finished.'
'Very good, sir.'"
P.G. Wodehouse, Carry on, Jeeves (1925) London: Penguin, 1999: 198.
