The

The Welcome back everyone to one thousand one classic short stories and tales.

And another story from our trust fund baby, Bernie Worcester.

This one called Doing Clarence A Bit of Good.

Have you ever thought about, and when I say thought about, I mean really carefully

consider the question of the coolness, the cheek, or if you prefer it, the gall with which one, as a sex, fairly bursts.

I have, by Job, but then I've had it thrust on my notice, by George,

in a way I should imagine, has happened to pretty few fellows,

and the limit was reached by that business of the Yergeley Venus.

To make you understand the full, what do you call it, of the situation,

I shall not have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yergeley and myself.

When I first knew her, she was Elizabeth Shulbred, old Worcestershire family, Pots of money. Pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill

was at Oxford with me. I loved Elizabeth Shulbred. I loved her, don't you know? And there was

a time for about a week when we were engaged to be married. But just as I was beginning to take a

serious view of life and study furniture catalogs and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played the wedding glide, I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yerdsley, Clarence Yerzley, an artist.

What with golf and billiards and a bit of racing, and fellows at the club rallying round and

kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I got over it and came to look on the affair

as a closed page in the book of my life, if you know what I mean.

And it didn't seem likely to me that we should meet again, as she and

Clarence had settled down in the country somewhere and never came to London. And I'm bound to own

that, by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I was to a certain

extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing it ended

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