Stilton Cheesewright: [referring to Bertie's cocktail] Now what do you suppose those things are doing to your eye?
Bertie Wooster: For your information, Cheesewright, one does not administer alcohol by the eye, or even by the ear. The mouth is the correct orifice.
Stilton Cheesewright: Not if one's meant to be in training for the Drones' darts tournament, it isn't.
Bertie Wooster: Ah, yes, of course, you've drawn me in the sweepstake, haven't you? Well, your money is safe, Cheesewright. The Wooster form is as devastating as ever.
Stilton Cheesewright: We want a win this year, Wooster, not another dratted tie. I happened to look into the Drones this afternoon. Freddie Widgeon was at the darts board, stunning everyone with a performance that — took the breath away.
Bertie Wooster: Tcha!
Stilton Cheesewright: Eh?
Bertie Wooster: I said "tcha!" scornfully, with ref. to F. Widgeon. I know his form backwards.
Stilton Cheesewright: He's knocked off smoking, you know!
Bertie Wooster: No!
Stilton Cheesewright: He takes a cold bath every morning!
Bertie Wooster: [shrugs] He's forgotten where the hot tap is.
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