#210

'Me! Dash it all, how old do you think I am? I'm only nineteen,'

'I had suspected as much from the alabaster clearness of your unwrinkled brow.'

#207

Mr Bickersdyke shifted uneasily on his sofa. He glared at the floor. Then he eyed the ceiling as if it were a personal enemy of his...Addressed thus directly, the manager allowed his gaze to wander from the ceiling. He eyed Psmith for a moment like an elderly basilisk, then looked back at the ceiling.

#204

'Women,' said Psmith, helping himself to trifle, and speaking with the air of one launched upon his special subject, 'are, one must recollect, like - like - er, well, in fact, just so. Passing on lightly from that conclusion...'

#201

'Comrad Bristow sneaks off and buys a sort of woolen sunset. I saw the thing unexpectedly. I tell you I was shaken. It is the suddenness of that waistcoat which hits you. It's discouraging, this sort of thing. I try always to think well of my fellow man. As an energetic Socialist, I do my best to see the good that is in him, but it's hard. Comrade Bristow's the most striking argument against the equality of man I've ever come across.'

#200

'You are Agesilaus,' he said. 'I am the petulant Pterodactyl. You, if I may say so, butted in of your own free will, and took me from a happy home, simply in order that you might get me into this place under you, and give me beans. But, curiously enough, the major portion of that vegetable seems to be coming to you.'

#199

I can rough it. We are old campaigners, we Psmiths. Give us a roof, a few comfortable chairs, a sofa or two, half a dozen cushions, and decent meals, and we do not repine.

#196

Psmith's attitude towards the slings and arrows of outrageous Fortune was to regard them with a bland smile, as if they were part of an entertainment got up for his express benefit.

#192

'Sir?' cried Beach, startled out of his butlerian calm. He swallowed a little convulsively. For eighteen months and more, ever since Lady Constance Keeble had first begun to cast her fly and hook over the murky water of the artistic world and jerk its denizens on to the pile carpets of Blandings Castle, Beach had had his fill of eccentricity. But until this moment he had hoped that Psmith was going to prove an agreeable change from the stream of literary lunatics which had been coming and going all that weary time. And lo! Psmith's name lead all the rest. Even the man who had come for a week in April and had wanted to eat jam with his fish paled in comparison.
   'Prod him in the ribs, sir?' he quavered.
   'Prod him in the ribs,' said Psmith firmly. 'And at the same time whisper in his ear the word "Aha!" '
Beach licked his dry lips.
  'Aha, sir?'
  'Aha! And say it came from me.'
  'Very good, sir. The matter shall be attended to,' said Beach.
And with a muffled sound that was half a sigh, half a death-rattle, he tottered through the green-baize door.

#191

We must remind ourselves that it is Baxter's misfortune rather than his fault that he looks like a dyspeptic lizard.

#190

He thus missed encountering perhaps the keenest glance that had ever come through Rupert Baxter's spectacles. It was not a protracted glance, but while it lasted it was like the ray from an oxy-acetylene blowpipe.

#184

Lord Emsworth, in a train moving in the direction of home, was behaving like a horse heading for his stable. He snorted eagerly, and spoke at length and with emotion of roses and herbaceous boarders....He examined Psmith across the compartment with something of the peering curiosity which he would have bestowed upon a new and unclassified shrub.

#182

'Are you really broke?'
'As broke as the Ten Commandments.'

#180

'How old are your children, sir?' she asked
'I fear,' said Psmith, 'you are peeping into Volume Two. This romance has only just started.