Этот неподражаемый Дживс! / The Inimitable Jeeves

”

“I haven’t met the Glossop kid.”

“Don’t!” advised Bingo, briefly.

“The only one of the family I really know is the girl.”

I had hardly spoken these words when the most extraordinary change came over young Bingo’s face. His eyes bulged, his cheeks flushed, and his Adam’s apple[83 - Adam's apple – адамово яблоко, кадык] hopped about like one of those rubber balls on the top of the fountain in a shooting-gallery[84 - shooting-gallery – тир].

“Oh, Bertie!” he said, in a strangled sort of voice.

I looked at the poor guy anxiously. I knew that he was always falling in love with someone, but it didn’t seem possible that even he could have fallen in love with Honoria Glossop[85 - Honoria Glossop – Гонория Глоссоп]. To me the girl was simply nothing more nor less than a pot of poison. One of those dashed large, brainy, strenuous, dynamic girls you see so many of these days. She had been at Girton[86 - Girton – Гиртон (один из колледжей Кембриджского цниерситета)], where, in addition to enlarging her brain to the most frightful extent, she had gone in for every kind of sport and developed the physique of a wrestler.

The effect she had on me whenever she appeared was to make me want to slide into a cellar and lie low till she went away.

But there was no mistaking it. The love light was in the blighter’s eyes.

“I worship her, Bertie! I worship the very ground she treads on!” continued the patient, in a loud, penetrating voice.

Fred Thompson and one or two fellows had come in, and McGarry, the fellow behind the bar, was listening very attentively. But Bingo did not care. He always reminds me of the hero of a musical comedy who takes the centre of the stage, gathers the boys round him in a circle, and tells them all about his love at the top of his voice.

“Have you told her?”

“No, I haven’t the nerve[87 - I haven't the nerve – я не смею].

But we walk together in the garden most evenings, and it sometimes seems to me that there is a look in her eyes.”

“I know that look. Like a sergeant-major.”

“Nothing of the kind! Like a tender goddess.”

“Half a second, old thing[88 - old thing – старина],” I said. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same girl? The one I mean is Honoria.