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Leave it to Psmith

§ 5
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to be prepared is everything in this life. ever since her talk with mr. joseph keeble in the high street of market blandings that afternoon eve’s mind had been flitting nimbly from one scheme to another, all designed to end in this very act of seizing the necklace in her hands and each rendered impracticable by some annoying flaw. and now that fate in its impulsive way had achieved for her what she had begun to feel she could[p. 238] never accomplish for herself, she wasted no time in bewildered inaction. the miracle found her ready for it.

for an instant she debated with herself the chances of a dash through the darkened hall up the stairs to her room. but the lights might go on again, and she might meet someone. memories of sensational novels read in the past told her that on occasions such as this people were detained and searched. . . .

suddenly, as she stood there, she found the way. close beside her, lying on its side, was the flower-pot which psmith had overturned as he came to join her on the terrace wall. it might have defects as a cache, but at the moment she could perceive none. most flower-pots are alike, but this was a particularly easily-remembered flower-pot: for in its journeying from the potting shed to the terrace it had acquired on its side a splash of white paint. she would be able to distinguish it from its fellows when, late that night, she crept out to retrieve the spoil. and surely nobody would ever think of suspecting . . .

she plunged her fingers into the soft mould, and straightened herself, breathing quickly. it was not an ideal piece of work, but it would serve.

she rubbed her fingers on the turf, put the flower-pot back in the row with the others, and then, like a flying white phantom, darted across the terrace and into the house. and so with beating heart, groping her way, to the bathroom to wash her hands.

the twenty-thousand-pound flower-pot looked placidly up at the winking stars.

§ 6

it was perhaps two minutes later that mr. cootes, sprinting lustily, rounded the corner of the house and burst on to the terrace. late as usual.

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