All language subtitles for jeeves.and.wooster.s02e06.720p.bluray.x264-ingot

- Jolly good play, what?
- Absolutely.

Did that girl remind you of someone?

- Er... no.
- Of course not. You haven't met her.

- So it wouldn't.
- Met who?

- Well, this girl I'm talking about.
- No.

- A wonderful girl.
- How's Angela?

Don't talk to me about Angela.

Oh, right.

What's the fellow with the gammy leg
going to do in act two?

Your cousin Angela is an A-1 scourge,
if you must know.

Oh, come, come, Tuppy.

- This is my favourite cousin.
- You know she's given me the push?

She has.

Simply because I was man enough
to speak out

on the subject of a ghastly hat
she was chump enough to buy.

Phwuh!

What do you mean, phwuh?

All I said was it made her look like a
raccoon peering from under a flowerpot.

- Which it did.
- They're not keen on fearless honesty.

- Well, your cousin Angela certainly isn't.
- Not about hats, anyway.

Anyway, I've been down
at Bleaching Court for the last week,

you know, trying to forget.

Sir Reginald Dalgleish's place?
I'm going this weekend.

Yes, I know. You'll be able to meet...
Yes, well, never mind.

- Meet? Meet who?
- Cheers!

I wish you'd put it on another table
for a change.

- Sir?
- Every day, at the same old time,

you put the same old tray
on the same old table.

I'm just fed up with the monotony.

The bally ballyness of it all
makes it all seem so bally bally.

Would you like me
to put it on another table, sir?

I'm not blaming you. it's just...

Well, by Jove, I've been thinking pretty
deeply these last few days, Jeeves.

I've come to the conclusion that mine
is an empty life, Jeeves. I'm lonely.

- You have a great many friends, sir.
- Well, yes, I know, but...

You know that play...
What was it, the one I saw last night?

- No, sir.
- What do you call it?

Anyway, the hero's a chap who's buzzing
along through life, merry and bright.

Apart from his gammy leg from the war.

All of a sudden, this kid turns up
and says she's his daughter.

Left over from act one. It's absolutely
the first he's ever heard of it.

So obviously there's a bit of a fuss,
and they say to him, "what ho".

And he says, "what ho".

And anyway, he takes the kid and they
go off together, out into the world.

- Very inspiring, sir.
- Yes, well, I thought so, yes.

Well, what I'm driving at, Jeeves,
is that I envy that chappie.

Having a jolly little girl
clinging to him trustingly.

Someone to look after,
if you know what I mean.

I wish I had a daughter.

I wonder what the procedure is.

Marriage is, I believe, sir,
the preliminary step,

for those willing to undergo its rigours.

Yes, yes, I suppose so.

Ah, well...

Telegram for you, sir.

Rummy communication, Jeeves.
From Mr Glossop.

Indeed, sir.

"When you come down,
Bring my rugger boots.

"Also, Irish Water Spaniel. Urgent.
Regards, Tuppy.”

I'm worried about Mr Glossop, Jeeves.

Last night, I got the impression

he's got himself involved
with that Dalgleish girl.

- Indeed, sir?
- He's had a bust-up with cousin Angela.

If a girl can't, in everyday conversation,
tell a chap to go and boil his head,

without said chap turning
to the arms of another, where are we?

Where, indeed, sir?

I think we owe it to my cousin Angela
to prise Tuppy apart from this interloper.

Very good, sir.

Alors, Jeeves! Les gants de monsleur,
le chapeau de monsieur.

Et le whangee de monsieur!

I tell you what, Jeeves. in re our recent
discussion - children, pattering feet.

I could marry Bobbie Wickham
and start it that way.

I know we had an unfortunate experience
the last time I was going to propose.

- She's a good egg-You can't deny that.
- Well, sir...

She's playing at the South Herts
ladies' tennis championship.

Book rooms at the local caravanserai.
We'll pop in on the way to Bleachings.

Very good, sir.

- Jeeves!
- Yes, sir?

There is a tone in your voice
whenever I mention Miss Wickham.

I'd almost call it a sigh.

- Oh, no, sir. I assure...
- Try and eradicate it.

- Very good, sir.
- Miss Wickham is a corker.

And as such,
is a worthy mother to my children.

She may have her faults,
but she's chock-full with fizz and ginger.

- Precisely, sir.
- Ah-ah, Jeeves!

Very good, sir.

- Bertie!
- Bingo!

I was on my way to find you, Bertie.
I wanted to ask you a question.

- Ask away, Bingo.
- Do you like the name Mabel?

- No.
- Oh.

You don't think it has a music in it,
like the wind rustling through tree tops?

- Erm... No.
- Oh.

You always were a fathead
without any soul.

Come on, I'll take you
to have lunch with her.

- Are you sure this is the right place?
- Sit down, Bertie.

Ah!

- Aren't we going to wait for...
- Mabel.

- 'Ello.
- This is Bertie Wooster, a pal of mine.

- Pleased to meet you.
- Oh, hello, Mabel.

- You see I'm wearing the tie?
- Suits you beautiful.

What's it going to be today, then?

I'll have my usual.

Cocoa, veal and ham pie,
slice of fruit cake and a macaroon.

- You remember!
- Same for you, sir?

No, I'll just have a roll and butter,
and a cup of coffee, please.

Right.

- Well?
- Very nice.

Not the most beautiful girl you ever saw?

Absolutely.

What I thought was, Bertie,
I'd like to put my problem to Jeeves.

- What problem?
- My Uncle Mortimer, you poor fish!

- What will he say to my marrying Mabel?
- You're going to get married, are you?

- Of course we're going to get married.
- That's a coincidence.

- I've decided to marry Bobbie Wickham.
- Never mind that.

He'll tie himself in knots
on the hearth rug.

One of these emotional johnnies?

I'm dependent on the old boy. If he cuts
off my allowance, I shall be in the soup.

Somehow, his mind has got to be
prepared to receive the news. But how?

- Em...
- That's a fat lot of help.

We'll soon have you sorted out, Bingo.

Good heavens!
Is that an Irish Water Spaniel?

No, sir. No such animal
was available at short notice.

I thought an Irish Wolfhound
would make an approximation.

I don't know, Jeeves. Tuppy was pretty
specific. What about the rugger boots?

- I collected them from his housekeeper.
- Good, good.

Well, Bingo's got a bit of a problem,
Jeeves.

A delicate subject, Jeeves,
as a matter of fact.

Very good, sir.

Jeeves!

What on earth's the matter, Jeeves?

- Jeeves?
- I apologise, sir.

It was unforgivable of me.
I shall be better directly.

It's just... Mr Little's tie, sir.

It has little horseshoes on it.

Oh, yes, yes. I noticed that. Hmm.

It's sometimes difficult
just to shrug these things off, sir.

However, what was it
that Mr Little needed advice on?

It's about his uncle.

Would that be Lord Bittlesham
who lives in Pounceby Gardens, sir?

How do you know he lives there?

I'm on terms of some intimacy
with Lord Bittlesham's cook, sir.

- In fact, there is an understanding.
- Do you mean you're engaged?

It might be said
to amount to that, sir, yes.

Ha! Well, well, well!

She is an excellent cook, sir.

My Uncle Mortimer
is likely to cut off my allowance.

Penury is staring me in the face, Jeeves.

One thing does occur, sir.

I was speaking to Lord Bittlesham's valet
the other day.

He was telling me
that it has become his principal duty

to read to Lord Bittlesham
in the evenings.

If I were you, sir, I would volunteer
to take over that particular task.

Ah! Old man moved
by nephew's kindly action, you mean?

Partly that, sir. I was relying, however,
more on Mr Little's choice of literature.

If you were to read to your uncle
a series of narratives

in which marriage of young persons
of inferior social status

is held up to be
both admirable and feasible,

then it might prepare Lord Bittlesham
for the news

that his nephew wishes to marry
a waitress in a teashop.

- Are there any books like that?
- Many, sir.

Have you encountered The Courtship Of
Lord Strathmorlick by Rosie M Banks?

No.

No, Only A Factory Girl
by the same author?

Never.

My aunt owns almost a complete set
of Rosie M Banks, sir.

I could borrow as many volumes
as you might require.

They make light, attractive reading.

Toddle off to your aunt's
and grab the fruitiest.

May as well give it a bash, eh?

Anything, Bertie. I'll start straightaway.

The ladies' singles final
is about to begin on court one.

Spectators are requested
to take their seats.

Take the luggage round to the hotel,
Jeeves.

- Very good, sir.
- Wish me luck with Miss Wickham.

I do, sir. I do. Most heartily.

Spectators are requested not
to move about during the course of play.

- Ah! What ho, Bobbie!
- Where on earth have you been, Bertie?

My match starts in five minutes.

This is my cousin, Clementina.

You're to look after her till
I've finished. Wish me luck.

- Well, Clementina...
- Was that your car? With the dog?

- Yes.
- My father's got a Bentley.

Really? Ah, well...

We may as well ankle over
and watch, eh?

They've got strawberries in the tea tent.

Ah, excuse me. Excuse me!

Er, strawberry.

You'd better hurry up and eat those
or we'll miss the match.

You didn't get any lemonade.

Thank you. So sorry.

Spectators are requested not
to move about during the course of play.

Did they have any ice cream?

- No.
- I saw a boy eating one.

Excuse me. Sorry.

Game to Miss Wickham.

Miss Wickham leads,
four games to three.

Excuse me. I'm so sorry. It's me again.

Game, set and match to Miss Wickham.

- Terrific, wasn't it?
- You were wonderful.

Awfully good of you to rally round,
Bertie.

- You're not going?
- I promised to take Clementina to tea.

I expect she'll need some nourishment.

Mmm. Bye-bye.

But, Bobbie! There was something
I wanted to say to you.

You can give me dinner at The Mariners,
if you like. Bye.

- This may well be it, Jeeves.
- It, sir?

Pitching the woo, Jeeves.
Not to rule out popping the question.

The lights will be low,
the wine will be flowing.

I'm sure I wish you
every good fortune, sir.

I only hope that the dog
will not impede your endeavours.

Patrick? Patrick will be warmly
ensconced in your room, Jeeves.

It is, if you recall, sir, my evening off.

I had promised myself a quiet evening
with an improving book.

Can't you spend an evening
with an improving dog?

He will pine for you, sir.

He pined most pathetically
this afternoon.

He becomes excitable when he pines.

Well, come along, Patrick.

Come on, Bobbie.
She's forgotten, Patrick.

Hello, Mr Wooster.

Are we late?

No, no.

- This is Patrick.
- Clementina loves animals.

She's not allowed them at school.

What can you expect
of a dump like St Monica's?

No, no.

He's sweet.

Bobbie, I... I wanted
to ask you something.

You shouldn't let the waiters
tease the dog like that.

No, no. I suppose not.

- There comes a time in a man's life...
- Are we going to have ice cream?

And a double 19 to finish, I think.

Thank you, gentlemen.
Most enjoyable.

Wherever did you learn to play like that,
Mr Jeeves?

One picks these things up
as one passes through life, my dear.

- That was lovely, Bertie.
- Oh, well, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Because... Well, what I mean to say is...

Would Patrick be sick
if we gave him some ice cream?

Yes. Erm... Bobbie...

We've known each other
a long time, and...

Excuse me, Miss Wickham,
your car is here.

Oh, no. Look at the time.

- Car?
- I'll just catch the 9:45 if I hurry.

I promised to go to a party tonight
in London.

- Party?
- Could you do me a terrific favour?

- Well, yes.
- Take Clementina back to school for me.

School?

Oh, bless you, Bertie.
You're an angel in human form.

- Well...
- Oh, there is one thing.

- One thing?
- Clementina's meant to be in bed.

You didn't come out without leave?

- Oh, now, look, Bobbie...
- You must learn not to fuss so, Bertie.

- Oh, I must, must I?
- It's perfectly simple.

You need a good, long piece of string.
You know what string is?

Certainly. As in string.

Good. You take the string with you,

and Clem will show you
where you find the flowerpots.

Grab one and go to the conservatory.

Beside the conservatory, there's a tree.

- Hold on a minute.
- I don't have time for you to interrupt.

Climb the tree,
tie the string to the flowerpot.

Climb down, holding the string.

Retire to a safe distance and let go.

The pot drops and smashes the glass.

While someone comes out to investigate,
Clem sneaks in. All right?

Tree, flowerpot, conservatory, string.

Ah, Jeeves.

What happened to the quiet evening
with an improving book?

I felt the need for a change of air, sir.

Well, Jeeves, you'll no doubt
be surprised to learn

that something in the nature of a hitch
has occurred.

Did your proposal
meet with a sympathetic ear, sir?

No, it did not, Jeeves. As a matter of
fact, it didn't meet with any ear at all.

As it's your night off, your part
in the proceedings is simplicity itself.

- You just sit here and look after Patrick.
- Very good, sir.

A thought has just occurred to me, sir.

This is no time for thought, Jeeves.
Come along, Clementina.

The conservatory's over there.

And that's where the flowerpots are.

Right. Well... erm... goodbye, Clementina.

- Good luck.
- Thank you... yes.

No!

Here, you! Come back here, you!

All right.
Come down out of there, you.

Me?

Right.

"Barbara tossed her auburn curls
rebelliously.

"Her dark eyes flashed.

"Her father might be only a mill hand,

"but she had the pride of the Ormskirks,

"that same pride that had prompted
her grandfather, Stanley Ormskirk,

"to stand firm when threatened with
eviction from his humble cottage

"by Lord Grandchester,
for refusing to doff his cap.”

Headmistress to see the prisoner,
constable.

Very good, Sarge.

I am so sorry, Mr Wooster.
This is a disgrace.

Oh. Right.

I shall be eternally grateful
for the trouble you have taken.

- Well... you know.
- You have behaved with great courage.

- You identify this man, Miss Mapleton?
- Identify him?

Of course I identify him.

You are an imbecile, officer.

You have bungled this whole affair
by mistaking Mr Wooster for a burglar.

- He was up a tree, ma"am.
- Of course he was up a tree!

No doubt you had climbed the tree
in order to watch the better, Mr Wooster.

Erm... yes, that's right. Absolutely.
To watch the better.

The officer is a fool, Mr Wooster.

By this time, no doubt,
thanks to his idiocy,

the miscreants you spotted
have made good their escape.

Probably.

- Release Mr Wooster at once, sergeant.
- Release this man, constable.

Perhaps I should drive Miss Mapleton
to the school, sir?

- Er... well, yes, of course.
- No, no, I intend to walk.

Perhaps I shall catch sight
of those desperados as I go.

- Good night, Mr Wooster.
- Good night.

Mr Jeeves.
I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.

Thank you very much, ma'am.

Now, Jeeves, explain to me
what on earth has been going on.

It occurred to me, sir, that the most
judicious course of action

was for me to ring the doorbell and
request an interview with Miss Mapleton,

and while the maid had gone, to
introduce Miss Clementina unobserved.

And you told the old dragon
I was on my way to call,

and was in the garden,
chivvying burglars with my bare hands.

- Precisely, sir.
- I should have been guided by you.

It might have spared
some temporary unpleasantness, sir.

Talking of which,
I've been thinking about adoption.

- Adoption, sir?
- Adopting a kid. You can, you know.

And it saves all this marriage malarkey.

But what I want to know
is how to start about it.

The process, I imagine,
is complicated and laborious, sir.

It would cut into your spare time.

It wouldn't cut into it
half as much as marrying Miss Wickham.

What did Miss Mapleton mean
about seeing us tomorrow?

In order to lend verisimilitude
to my story, sir,

I informed her
that you were a renowned orator, sir,

currently on a tour
of the Home Counties.

Good Lord, Jeeves!

Upon learning this, Miss Mapleton was
anxious for you to address the school.

I didn't like to disappoint her.

What?

I hope I did the right thing, sir.

Girls, I have a treat in store for you
this morning.

One of our great public speakers

has taken time from his busy schedule

to address you
with a few words of wisdom.

Mr Bertram Wooster.

♪ Greetings to you

♪ Many greetings to you

♪ Many greetings, Mr Bertram

♪ Many greetings to you!

Ha! Em...

Well... erm...

Em... well... ladies.

Girls!

Good morning. That is to say, what ho!

Em... well...

Perhaps Mr Wooster will give you
a few words of advice,

which may be helpful to you in life.

Right. Yes.

Em... well... erm...

Oh, yes, now, here's something
that's often done me a bit of good.

It's something
that not many people know.

Erm... yes, well, anyway,

My Uncle Henry gave me the tip
when I first came to London.

"Never forget, my boy,” he said," if you
stand outside Romano's, in the Strand,

"you can see the clock on the law courts,
in Fleet Street.”

Most people
wouldn't think it was possible,

because there are a couple of churches
in the road.

You'd think they'd get in the way,
but they don't. And... It's worth knowing.

"You can win a lot of money,”
he used to say, "by betting on it

"with fellows who haven't found it out.”

By Jove, he was absolutely right.

It really is a thing to remember.

- Yes, many's the quid I've won...
- Ahem!

Perhaps, Mr Wooster,
a little story might be in order.

Some anecdote to illustrate the benefits
of hard work, study and healthy living?

A story? Right.

Hoo! Erm... Never can remember stories.

Oh, yes, here's one I heard recently.

It seems there was this chorus girl,
and she met this stockbroker.

- And he said to her...
- Thank you, Mr Wooster.

Wasn't that splendid, girls?
We will now sing the school song.

♪ Greetings to you

-♪ Many greetings to you ♪
- Let's go, Jeeves.

Your address was successful, sir?

Oh, yes, went like a breeze.

Do get a move on, Jeeves.

"The tall young man smiled crookedly,

"lifting his oil-grimed hands
in helpless apology.

"Myrtle's eyes flashed.
She tossed her blonde curls.

"She was not to know
that this figure in stained overalls

"and with a worn cloth cap set at a
jaunty angle atop a head of unruly curls,

"was the 14th Earl Strathmorlick
of Strathmorlick,

"Lord High Keeper of Dunoon Castle,

"and laird of ten thousand fertile acres
in his native Dumfriesshire.”

I do trust that your experience
in St Monica's

has not spoilt
your taste for adoption, sir.

I must confess
it has given me pause, Jeeves.

Am I wrong in thinking all little girls

are hard-bitten thugs
of the worst description?

Your definition is
sadly near the truth, sir.

But we must console ourselves.

Life without the blessings of children
does have compensations.

No, Jeeves, no, no, no. I'm too young to
give in to such cynicism. I'm an idealist.

Very good, sir.

My sister is coming back from India.
She's the one with the three little girls.

I refuse to believe my own kith and kin
can be described as hard-bitten thugs.

Woosters may have faults, but thuggery
has never been one of them.

Well, sir...

I can give up the flat and take a house,
and they can come and live with us.

- Indeed, sir.
- I can be a proper uncle.

You observe the largish, corn-fed girl,
Jeeves?

- Yes, sir.
- Typical Tuppy fodder.

Even at this distance,
one can tell that his ears are pinkish.

- Hello, Bertie.
- Tuppy.

- This is Miss Dalgleish.
- How do you do?

Mummy and Daddy
are in the sitting room, if you want tea.

What on earth's that?

It's an Irish Wolfhound. It's for you.

That's no good to me.
Look, I asked for an Irish Water Spaniel.

- Well, they'd run out.
- Oh, really, Bertie!

- Are you coming, Hildebrand?
- Yes, yes, I'm just coming, Daisy.

Sinister, Jeeves. You noticed that the
subject was looking like a stuffed frog?

There is something ranine
in Mr Glossop's aspect, sir, yes.

- Particularly about the eyes.
- Precisely. Our fears are justified.

The thing seems serious.

- Heard from Angela at all, Tuppy?
- No, I have not.

And I have no wish
to hear from the little blighter.

Angela's awfully fond of you.

Is she, indeed? She's got
a dashed funny way of showing it.

Well, they do have, Tuppy.
They're not like us.

In passing, what did you want
with a Water Spaniel?

I wanted to give it to Daisy.

Look, Bertie, I might as well tell you.

I'm in love at last. It's the real thing.

Oh, how different she is, Bertie, from
those hothouse, artificial London girls.

Would they stand all afternoon
in the mud, watching a rugger match?

Would they know
what to give an Alsatian for fits?

Would they tramp ten miles across the
fields and come back as fresh as paint?

- No.
- Well, why should they?

Oh, you wouldn't understand, Bertie.

Anyway, she's set her heart
on an Irish Water Spaniel.

- Dashed nuisance you couldn't get one.
- Well, give her your rugger boots.

By the way, what did you want them for?

I happen to be playing in a match
tomorrow.

Upper Bleaching versus
Hockley-cum-Meston.

Daisy was rather keen
that I help Upper Bleaching out.

So you'll be playing for Hockley?

Very funny.

It's not like an ordinary rugger match.

In fact, it's not really rugby at all.

They play in the middle of summer.

And the two villages
absolutely loathe each other.

And the rules
are a bit more... well, relaxed.

Started long before rugby was invented.

First game was played
in Henry VIII's time.

Lasted from noon till sunset,
and seven players were killed.

- Killed?
- And two spectators.

Oh, but it's not like that
any more, Daddy.

It's three years
since anybody actually died, isn't it?

Yes, I know.
Still, damned good fun, though!

Hildebrand's going to be
the hero of the village.

"Eileen tossed her dark curls scornfully.

"Perhaps she did only work
in a cigarette shop.

"Perhaps her dress was thin, cheap
cotton, and patched and worn, too.

"Nevertheless, she had her pride.

"The name Ormerod was an old one.

“Since time immemorial there had been
Ormerods in Blackchester.

"What did she care for the Fazakerieys,
with their fancy ways?"

The citizenry of Upper Bleaching
look forward to this match,

as a chance to settle old scores
with the neighbouring village.

Common enough
in the sporting world, sir.

So we must act swiftly to save Tuppy.

He refuses to do the sensible thing
and slide out.

He says it will make him feel like a knight
of old, jousting under the eye of his lady.

It does sound like an acute case, sir.

Yes. So, we must employ guile.

Go to London in the morning, Jeeves,

and send a telegram, signed Angela,
which will read as follows.

What would a girl say, who, having had
a row with the bird she was engaged to,

because he said
she looked like a raccoon,

wanted to extend the olive branch?

If I might suggest, sir, the following,

as from Miss Angela's mother,
might meet the case.

"Return immediately.
Angela seriously ill and delirious,

"calling your name piteously,

"and saying something
about you being right about the hat.

"Catch the earliest possible train.
Dahlia Travers.”

Yes. Well done, Jeeves.

Just one more spot of devilish cunning.

Send it off in time
for it to arrive at 2.30.

Tuppy will have
started for the ground.

I'll hand it to him
during some lull in the battle.

By that time, he'll have discovered
what sort of rugger match he's in for.

Come on!

- Good luck, Hildebrand!
- I'm doing it for you, Daisy.

I haven't got the ball.

Well played, Hildebrand!

Got anyone called Glossop?
He's got an urgent telegram.

- Telegram for Glossop.
- Thank you. I'll take it.

Where do you think you're going,
shorty?

- Mr Glossop's awfully brave, isn't he?
- He's a damned fool.

- Tuppy!
- Well played!

- How's it going?
- Quiet match, so far.

Tuppy, old man! Telegram for you.

Do you think I've got time for telegrams?

Ah, but this one may be fearfully urgent.
Here it is.

Oh, gosh, I've left it at the house.

- It doesn't matter.
- It does.

Probably something
you ought to read at once.

If I were you, I'd say a quick farewell
to the murder squad,

and come to the house right away.

Do you think I'm going to slink away
under her very eyes?

Good God!
Besides, I'm not leaving the field

until I've disembowelled
that blond-haired bounder.

He keeps tackling me
when I haven't got the ball.

Is that right?

Of course it's not right!

I'll tell you one thing. A bitter
retribution awaits that bird, Bertie.

From now on,
I'm going to assert my personality.

I really think you ought
to come and read the... telegram.

Come on, Hildebrand!

- Is that meant to happen?
- It's a try! it's a try!

I scored!

I jolly well scored!

First time anyone's scored since 1883.

Oh. How lovely.

- Bertie!
- Hello, Bingo. What are you doing here?

I can't stop.

- Come back to London with me.
- Why?

- Have lunch with my uncle tomorrow.
- Why should I?

- Because he wants you to.
- Me? He doesn't know I exist.

- He does. I've told him about you.
- What have you told him?

Oh, various things.

- Where's Daisy?
- She's not here. Had to go to London.

I'll tell her you were asking.

- Well played, by the by.
- What did she go to London for?

Well, she got this message.

Jeeves, you're back.

I arrived shortly after the second half,
in time to see Mr Glossop score his try.

Try? Oh, gosh, Jeeves,
that means we've failed.

Miss Dalgleish will be all over him,
calling him a hero.

- I doubt that, sir.
- Really, Jeeves?

Jeeves, that wheeze of yours of reading
to my uncle was an absolute corker!

Thank you, sir.

Excuse me, excuse me.

- Tuppy, what happened?
- I've broken my leg.

And she wasn't even there.

Hello, Tuppy. Haven't seen you for ages.
I've met this wonderful girl, Mabel.

You wouldn't believe
how beautiful she is.

I sweat myself to the bone for her sake.

I allow a mob of homicidal lunatics to
kick me and stroll about all over my face.

What do I find? She doesn't even stay
till the end of the game.

- Mabel's very fond of football.
- Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

She gets a message from someone in
London who's got an Irish Water Spaniel.

Up she pops in her car, leaving me flat!

Mabel's brother plays for
Woolwich Arsenal, as a matter of fact.

Ah, thank you, Jeeves.

Might I enquire, sir, are we proposing
to return to the metropolis tomorrow?

Ah, yes, I think so.
Any particular reason?

I have an appointment tomorrow
that I am anxious not to miss, sir.

- It was you, wasn't it, Jeeves?
- Sir?

Who told Miss... what's-her-bally-name
about the alleged Water Spaniel.

- Yes, sir.
- I thought I detected the touch.

You knew
she'd go buzzing up to London.

- Yes, sir.
- And you knew how Tuppy would react.

If there's one thing that gives a knight
the pip, it's his audience walking out.

Very true, sir.

Look! There she is.

Now she's got
her blasted Irish Water Spaniel,

she can't even be bothered
to say goodbye to me.

Open the door.

She had the almighty gall
to visit me in hospital last night.

Did I ever tell you about the time Mabel
and I went to the races at Sandown?

All she could talk about
was that blasted animal

- Ugly beast.
- Mabel would never do that.

Mabel and I have a code.

To think I fancied I
loved a girl like that.

A perfect life partner, I don't think!

A girl like that'd be bringing home
a Siberian Eelhound before you knew it.

Oh, Tuppy, I forgot to give you
your telegram.

- Oh, what a wonderful girl she is!
- Who's that, Tuppy?

- Well, Angela, of course.
- Oh, really?

Oh, she understands me, Bertie.

Understands me
like no other girl in the world.

What I can't understand

is why your uncle should ask a fellow
to lunch whom he's never seen.

Bertie, I want you to spring the news
on him about my marrying Mabel.

- I haven't the nerve myself.
- What? Hanged if I do!

Good morning, Mr Little.
His Lordship is expecting you.

If you think that...

Mr Wooster, I am proud,
I am gratified, I am... honoured.

Oh, ah...

So young
to have accomplished so much.

Well, you know...

Yes, well, we can talk properly
over lunch.

Miss Watson has prepared
a very special repast. Oh, Richard.

Little Marge will be having lunch with us.
I hope you don't mind. I'll just fetch her.

- What's he talking about?
- Margaret's my cousin.

About me
having accomplished something.

I haven't accomplished anything. Have I?

The fact is, Bertie...
I know you won't mind.

I told him you were the author of those
books I've been reading to him.

- What?
- I said Rosie M Banks was a pen name.

- He'll listen to you. Hang on your words.
- But...

Pitch it strong, and keep before you the
fact that my allowance must be raised.

What amazes me
is that a man so young as you

should be able to plumb human nature
so surely to its depths.

To play with so unerring a hand upon
the quivering heartstrings of your reader.

Oh, just a knack.

How many words are there in a novel,
Mr Wooster?

Words?

Oh, I never count.

Just let it all come, that's what I say.

Well, how many are there on a page?

On a page?

Er... well... erm... twenty or thirty.

Depends on the page.

Erm... two hundred.

Well, a thousand, more or less. I mean...
On a single page, you mean?

Yes, about ten thousand.

That would be one of the bigger pages.

- Um... Have you got a book handy?
- It's not important, Mr Wooster.

What is important
is Mr Wooster's splendid defiance

of the outworn fetishes
of a purblind social system.

In the magnificent words of
Lord Bletchmore in Only A Factory Girl,

"Be her origins ne'er so humble,

"a good woman
is equal to the finest lady on earth.”

Ah. So, do you think it's all right
for a chap in a certain social position

to marry a girl of what you might call
the lower classes?

Oh, assuredly, Mr Wooster.

Bingo wants to marry a waitress.

Richard?

I honour you.

- You don't object?
- On the contrary.

I hope you don't think I'm butting in here.

His allowance, he was hoping you might
see your way to jerking up the total a bit.

I fear that can hardly be managed.
It would not be fair to my wife.

- But you're not married, Uncle.
- Not yet.

But I intend to enter that holy state.

Under the influence
of Mr Wooster's books,

I have persuaded Miss Watson, who,
for so many years has cooked for me,

to accept my hand in marriage.

A nice crusty split tin...

Three Bakewell tarts.

- You know what, Jeeves?
- No, sir.

This is jolly nice. I mean,
looking at the clock and...

Wondering if you're going to be late,

and then you coming in with a tray,
exactly on time.

Shoving it down on a table
and biffing off.

The next night, coming in, shoving it
down, biffing off. And the next night!

Gives one a safe feeling.
Soothing, that's the word.

It is soothing, isn't it, sir?

Nevertheless, Jeeves, I must ask you
to brace up and bite the bullet.

I'm afraid I have bad news for you.

That scheme of yours
about reading to Bingo's uncle,

well, I'm afraid it's blown out a fuse.

- They did not soften him, sir?
- They did. That's the bally problem.

I'm sorry to say that your fiancée,
Miss Watson, the cook...

Well, the long and the short of it is,
Jeeves,

that she appears to have chosen riches
instead of honest worth.

Sir?

Well, she has handed you the mitten and
gone and got engaged to old Bittlesham.

- Indeed, sir?
- You don't seem very upset, Jeeves.

To tell the truth, sir,
I was not wholly averse

to the severance
of my relations with Miss Watson.

I respect Miss Watson exceedingly,

but I have seen for some time
that she and I were not suited.

Now, the other young person
with whom I have an understanding...

Good Lord, Jeeves! Another?

Yes, sir.

By an odd coincidence, sir,

It is the same young person
in whom Mr Little has been so interested.

- What? Mabel?
- Yes, sir.

Good Lord, Jeeves!

Well, poor old Bingo.

Shall I contact the estate agents
tomorrow, sir?

Estate agents?

It was your intention to take a house

of sufficient size for Mrs Scholfield and
her three young ladies to live with you.

Oh, no, no. No, that's all off, Jeeves. No.

Young ladies?
Fiends, every one of them.

How they ever grow into those
adorable creatures we know and love,

I cannot fathom.

I shall continue the monk-like existence
which has characterised my life hitherto.

- Very good, sir.
- Perhaps another whisky and soda.

Very good, sir.