It was a nasty look. It made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended to bury later on$$$ when he had time.

Every author really wants to have letters printed in the paper. Unable to make the grade$$$ he drops down a rung of the ladder and writes novels.

What do ties matter$$$ Jeeves$$$ at a time like this?<br>"There is no time$$$ sir$$$ at which ties do not matter."

She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season.

Hell$$$ it is well known$$$ has no fury like a woman who wants her tea and can't get it.

As for Gussie Finknottle$$$ many an experienced undertaker would have been deceived by his appearance and started embalming on sight.

I pressed down the mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea.

It is true of course$$$ that I have a will of iron$$$ but it can be switched off if the circumstances seem to demand it.

I hadn't the heart to touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself.

If I have exhausted the justifications$$$ I have reached bedrock and my spade is turned. Then I am inclined to say: 'This is simply what I do.'