Bertie slept horribly for days. He just tossed and turned in his bed for most of the night.
He couldn't figure out what in George the matter was with him.
Most of the night he would just rewind the day, all the small things, bits here and there, every conversation with Jeeves. When he would give up on sleep, he thought of Jeeves' expressions and his tone of voice trying to figure out what it all meant.
Jeeves was a man of many words but not a lot of them were dedicated to expressing his inner world. His inner thoughts could only be seen through the expression of his eyebrows and the small changes in the various ways when he would say 'Indeed, sir'.
Sometimes Bertie would get chills when he said those words. Like the time when Bertie was wrong about Bobby thinking of her as suitable for marriage only to realise what a heartless manipulator she really was.
At other times his heart would feel warm from the approval hidden behind the very same words.
It was most peculiar just as Jeeves was most peculiar.
Bertie often found himself talking to his friends about him and his world views. So much so, that his friends addressed Jeeves in the same manner as they did him.
That gave him some sense of satisfaction, that they were able to see it too, but somehow it wasn't enough. Bertie wanted to know more about his valet. He didn't just want polite remarks from him, he wished for Jeeves to talk to him.
Sometimes, as Bertie talked Jeeves would simply slip out into the kitchen and disappear. Then Bertie had to wait for him to emerge just to finish his sentence.
He felt foolish for it.
That's why he decided that he won't be a slave to that blasted door. One day he just breathed in deeply and followed Jeeves inside. As he did so he kept talking to diminish his discomfort. In his own space, it seemed as if Jeeves was more willing to talk.
That was a fine discovery, therefore Bertie began to enter the kitchen and ironing room regularly. Even when his sentence wasn't interrupted by the door he would enter and start a conversation sitting in the chair or walking back and forth. It was most gratifying.
Still, he couldn't sleep. It was as he was burning from within. He couldn't really explain his state of mind.