Fish Preferred: A NovelMadness ensues when the Honourable Galahad Threepwood decides to write his memoirs, not to mention all the imposters running around Blandings Castle and Lord Emsworth's stolen pig. |
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Argus Enquiry Agency asked Aunt Constance balcony Beach Blandings Castle brother butler caravan chorus girl course dancing dashed dinner Dolly Henderson door Earl of Emsworth Efficient Baxter Empress of Blandings eyes face fact feel felt Galahad Threepwood garden going hand head heard Hugo Carmody Hugo's Hullo jolly knew Lady Constance Keeble laughed listen London look Lord Ems Lord Emsworth lordship Mario's Market Blandings marry Mason Matchingham Hall mean Millicent mind minutes Miss Brown Miss Schoonmaker never nice night ninth Earl Percy Pilbeam Ronald Ronnie Fish Ronnie's rose Rupert Baxter seemed silence Sir Gregory Parsloe-Parsloe smile sorry sort soul sound speak spectacles stared stood Sue Brown Sue's suppose talk tell there's thing thought told turned Uncle Clarence voice waiter What's words young Parsloe
Popular passages
Page 56 - Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive!
Page 56 - If I hadn't heard it with my own ears I wouldn't have believed it. Why didn't you ever tell me you were one of those swift thinkers?
Page 16 - No more alcohol for me," said Buffy. 'Look what it does to the common earthworm.' 'But you're not a common earthworm,' I said, putting my finger on the flaw in his argument right away. 'I dashed soon shall be if I go on drinking alcohol,
Page 15 - And I'll bet Uncle Gally needed every ounce of his,' said Millicent. The Author, ambling briskly across the lawn, had now joined the little group at the tea-table. As his photograph had indicated, he was a short, trim, dapper little man of the type one associates automatically in one's mind with checked suits, tight trousers, white bowler hats, pink carnations, and race-glasses bumping against the left hip.
Page 16 - I dashed soon shall be if I go on drinking alcohol," said Buffy. Well, I begged him with tears in my eyes not to do anything rash, but I couldn't move him. He ordered in ten pounds of the muck and was dead inside the year.' 'Good heavens! Really?' The Hon. Galahad nodded impressively. 'Dead as a door-nail. Got run over by a hansom cab, poor dear old chap, as he was crossing Piccadilly. You'll find the story in my book.
Page 93 - ... Pilbeam. He had written her notes. He had sent her flowers. And nothing had happened. She ignored the notes, and what she did with the flowers he did not know. She certainly never thanked him for them. Brooding upon these matters, he was interrupted by the opening of the door. The gentlemanly office-boy entered. Pilbeam looked up, annoyed. "How many times have I told you not to come in here without knocking?