“When Cynthia smiles," said young Bingo, "the skies are blue; the world takes on a roseate hue; birds in the garden trill and sing, and Joy is king of everything, when Cynthia smiles." He coughed, changing gears. "When Cynthia frowns - ""What the devil are you talking about?""I'm reading you my poem. The one I wrote to Cynthia last night. I'll go on, shall I?""No!""No?""No. I haven't had my tea.”

“In love with me. Don't be absurd.""My dear old thing, you don't know young Bingo. He can fall in love with anybody.""Thank you!""Oh, I didn't mean it that way, you know. I don't wonder at his taking to you. Why, I was in love with you myself once.""Once? Ah! And all that remains now are the cold ashes? This isn't once of your tactful evenings, Bertie.""Well, my dear sweet thing, dash it all, considering that you gave me the bird and nearly laughed yourself into a permanent state of hiccoughs when I asked you - ""Oh, I'm not reproaching you. No doubt there were faults on both sides. He's very good-looking, isn't he?""Good-looking? Bingo? Bingo good-looking? No, I say, come now, really!""I mean, compared with some people," said Cynthia.”

“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.”

“I don't know when I've experienced a more massive silence than the one that followed my reading of his cheery epistle. Young Bingo gulped once or twice and practically every known emotion came and went on his face. Jeeves coughed one soft, low, gentle cough like a sheep with a blade of grass stuck in its throat, and then stood gazing serenely at the landscape.”

“And you call yourself a pal of mine!""Yes, I know; but there are limits.""Bertie," said Bingo reproachfully, "I saved your life once.""When?""Didn't I? It must have been some other fellow then. Well, anyway, we were boys together and all that. You can't let me down.""Oh, all right," I said. "But, when you say you haven't nerve enough for any dashed thing in the world, you misjudge yourself.”

“Judge of my chagrin and all that sort of thing, therefore, when, tottering to my room and switching on the light, I observed the foul features of young Bingo all over the pillow.”

“I say, you don't know how I could raise fifty quid somehow, do you?""Why don't you work?""Work?" said young Bingo, surprised. "What, me? No, I shall have to think of some way.”