“Bertie, old man," said young Bingo earnestly, "for the last two weeks I've been comforting the sick to such an extent that, if I had a brother and you brought him to me on a sick-bed at this moment, by Jove, old man, I'd heave a brick at him.”

“I say Bertie old man I am in love at last. She is the most wonderful girl Bertie old man. This is the real thing at last Bertie. Come here at once and bring Jeeves. Oh I say you know that tobacco shop in Bond Street on the left side as you go up. Will you get me a hundred of their special cigarettes and send them to me here. I have run out. I know when you see her you will think she is the most wonderful girl. Mind you bring Jeeves. Don't forget the cigarettes. - Bingo.”

“He looked at me like Lillian Gish coming out of a swoon."Is this Bertie Wooster talking?" he said, pained."Yes, it jolly well is!""Bertie, old man," said Bingo, patting me gently here and there, "reflect! We were at school - ""Oh, all right!”

“Good works?""About the village, sir. Reading to the bedridden - chatting with the sick - that sort of thing, sir. We can but trust that good results will ensue.""Yes, I suppose so," I said doubtfully. "But, by gosh, if I were a sick man I'd hate to have a looney like young Bingo coming and gibbering at my bedside.”

“I've been through a bad time, Bertie, these last weeks. The sun ceased to shine - ""That's curious. We've had gorgeous weather in London.""The birds ceased to sing.""What birds?""What the devil does it matter what birds?" said young BIngo, with some asperity. "Any birds. The birds round about here. You don't expect me to specify them by their pet names, do you? I tell you, Bertie, it hit me hard at first, very hard.""What hit you?" I simply couldn't follow the blighter."Charlotte's calculated callousness.”

“You are a sick, sick man,” I told him.“Thank you,” Ben replied, looking modest.”