Right Ho, Jeeves

“Jeeves,” I said, “a word with you.” “Sir?” “I am up against it a bit, Jeeves.” “I am sorry to hear that, sir. Can I be of any assistance?” “Quite possibly you can, if you have not lost your grip. Tell me frankly, Jeeves, are you in pretty good shape mentally?” “Yes, sir.” “Still eating plenty of fish?” “Yes, sir.” “Then it may be all right. But there is just one point before I begin. In the past, when you have contrived to extricate self or some pal from some little difficulty, you have frequently shown a disposition to take advantage of my gratitude to gain some private end. Those purple socks, for instance. Also the plus fours and the Old Etonian spats. Choosing your moment with subtle cunning, you came to me when I was weakened by relief and got me to get rid of them. And what I am saying now is that if you are successful on the present occasion there must be no rot of that description about that mess-jacket of mine.” “Very good, sir.” “You will not come to me when all is over and ask me to jettison the jacket?” “Certainly not, sir.” “On that understanding then, I will carry on. Jeeves, I’m engaged.” “I hope you will be very happy, sir.” “Don’t be an ass. I’m engaged to Miss Bassett.” “Indeed, sir? I was not aware----” “Nor was I. It came as a complete surprise. However, there it is. The official intimation was in that note you brought me.”