P. Wodehouse - Much obliged, Jeeves

'Yes, sir. If you would care to read her remarks? I took down both speeches in shorthand.'

'Later on, perhaps.'

'At any time that suits you, sir.'

'And how was the applause? Hearty? Or sporadic?'

'On one side of the hall extremely hearty. The rougher element appeared to be composed in almost equal parts of her supporters and those of Mr Winship. They had been seated at opposite sides of the auditorium, no doubt by design. Her supporters cheered, Mr Winship's booed.'

'And when Ginger got up, I suppose her lot booed him?'

'No doubt they would have done so, had it not been for the tone of his address. His appearance was greeted with a certain modicum of hostility, but he had scarcely begun to speak when he was rapturously received.'

'By the opposition?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Strange.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Can you elucidate?'

'Yes, sir. If I might consult my notes for a moment. Ah, yes. Mr Winship's opening words were, «Ladies and gentlemen, I come before you a changed man.» A Voice: «That's good news.» A second Voice: «Shut up, you bleeder.» A third Voice…'

'I think we might pass lightly over the Voices, Jeeves.'

'Very good, sir. Mr Winship then said, «I should like to begin with a word to the gentleman in the turtleneck sweater in that seat over there who kept calling my opponent a silly old geezer. If he will kindly step on to this platform. I shall be happy to knock his ugly block off. Mrs McCorkadale is not a silly old geezer.» A Voice . . . Excuse me, sir, I was forgetting. «Mrs McCorkadale is not a silly old geezer,» Mr Winship said, «but a lady of the greatest intelligence and grasp of affairs. I admire her intensely. Listening to her this evening has changed my political views completely. She has converted me to hers, and I propose, when the polls are opened, to cast my vote for her. I advise all of you to do the same. Thank you.» He then resumed his seat.'

'Good Lord, Jeeves!'

'Yes, sir.'

'He really said that?'

'Yes, sir.'

'No wonder his engagement's off.'

'I must confess it occasioned me no surprise, sir.'

I continued amazed. It seemed incredible that Ginger, whose long suit was muscle rather than brain, should have had the ingenuity and know-how to think up such a scheme for freeing himself from Florence's clutches without forfeiting his standing as a fairly preux chevalier. It seemed to reveal him as possessed of snakiness of a high order, and I was just thinking that you never can tell about a fellow's hidden depths, when one of those sudden thoughts of mine came popping to the surface.

'Was this you, Jeeves?'

'Sir?'

'Did you put Ginger up to doing it?'

'It is conceivable that Mr Winship may have been influenced by something I said, sir. He was very much exercised with regard to his matrimonial entanglements and he did me the honour of consulting me. It is quite possible that I may have let fall some careless remark that turned his thoughts in the direction they took.'

'In other words, you told him to go to it?'

'Yes, sir.'

I was silent for a space. I was thinking how jolly it would be if he could dish up something equally effective with regard to me and M. Bassett. The thought also occurred to me that what had happened, while excellent for Ginger, wasn't so good for his backers and supporters and the Conservative cause in general.

I mentioned this.

'Tough on the fellows who betted on him.'

'Into each life some rain must fall, sir.'

'Though possibly a good thing. A warning to them in future to keep their money in the old oak chest and not risk it on wagers. May prove a turning point in their lives. What really saddens one is the thought that Bingley will now clean up. He'll make a packet.'

'He told me this afternoon that he was expecting to do so.'

'You mean you've seen him?'

'He came here at about five o'clock, sir.'

'Stockish, hard and full of rage, I suppose?'

'On the contrary, sir, extremely friendly. He made no allusion to the past. I gave him a cup of tea, and we chatted for perhaps half an hour.'

'Strange.'

'Yes, sir. I wondered if he might not have had an ulterior motive in approaching me.'

'Such as?'

'I must confess I cannot think of one. Unless he entertained some hope of inducing me to part with the club book, but that is hardly likely. Would there be anything further, sir?'

'You want to get back to the stricken parlourmaid?'

'Yes, sir. When you rang, I was about to see what a little weak brandy and water would do.'

I sped him on his errand of mercy and sat down to brood. You might have supposed that the singular behaviour of Bingley would have occupied my thoughts. I mean, when you hear that a chap of his well-established crookedness has been acting oddly, your natural impulse is to say 'Aha!' and wonder what his game is. And perhaps for a minute or two I did ponder on this. But I had so many other things to ponder on that Bingley soon got shoved into the discard. If I remember rightly, it was as I mused on Problem (b), the one about restoring the porringer to L. P. Runkle, and again drew a blank, that my reverie was interrupted by the entrance of the old ancestor.

She was wearing the unmistakable look of an aunt who has just been having the time of her life, and this did not surprise me. Hers since she sold the weekly paper she used to run, the one I did that piece on What The Well-Dressed Man Will Wear for, has been a quiet sort of existence, pleasant enough but lacking in incident and excitement. A really sensational event such as the egg-and– vegetable-throwing get-together she had just been present at must have bucked her up like a week at the seaside.

Her greeting could not have been more cordial. An aunt's love oozed out from every syllable.

'Hullo, you revolting object,' she said. 'So you're back.'

'Just arrived.'

'Too bad you had that jury job. You missed a gripping experience.'

'So Jeeves was telling me.'

'Ginger finally went off his rocker.'

With the inside information which had been placed at my disposal I was able to correct this view.

'It was no rocker that he went off, aged relative. His actions were motivated by the soundest good sense. He wanted to get Florence out of his hair without actually telling her to look elsewhere for a mate.'

'Don't be an ass. He loves her.'

'No longer. He's switched to Magnolia Glendennon.'

'You mean that secretary of his?'

'That identical secretary.'

'How do you know?'

'He told me so himself.'

'Well, I'll be blowed. He finally got fed up with Florence's bossiness, did he?'

'Yes, I think it must have been coming on for some time without him knowing it, subconsciously as Jeeves would say. Meeting Magnolia brought it to the surface.'

'She seems a nice girl.'

'Very nice, according to Ginger.'

'I must congratulate him.'

'You'll have to wait a bit. They've gone up to London.'

'So have Spode and Madeline. And Runkle ought to be leaving soon. It's like one of those great race movements of the Middle Ages I used to read about at school. Well, this is wonderful. Pretty soon it'll be safe for Tom to return to the nest. There's still Florence, of course, but I doubt if she will be staying on. My cup runneth over, young Bertie. I've missed Tom sorely. Home's not home without him messing about the place. Why are you staring at me like a halibut on a fishmonger's slab?'

I had not been aware that I was conveying this resemblance to the fish she mentioned, but my gaze had certainly been on the intent side, for her opening words had stirred me to my depths.

'Did you say,' I – yes, I suppose, vociferated would be the word, 'that Spode and Madeline Bassett had gone to London?'

'Left half an hour ago.'