Right Ho, Jeeves

A disturbing picture, you will admit. It was with a rather imperious gesture that I summoned Jeeves to my side. “Well, Jeeves?” “Sir?” I eyed him sternly. “Sir?” forsooth! “It’s no good saying ‘Sir?’ Jeeves. Look round you. See for yourself. Your scheme has proved a bust.” “Certainly it would appear that matters have not arranged themselves quite as we anticipated, sir.” “We?” “As I had anticipated, sir.” “That’s more like it. Didn’t I tell you it would be a flop?” “I remember that you did seem dubious, sir.” “Dubious is no word for it, Jeeves. I hadn’t a scrap of faith in the idea from the start. When you first mooted it, I said it was rotten, and I was right. I’m not blaming you, Jeeves. It is not your fault that you have sprained your brain. But after this--forgive me if I hurt your feelings, Jeeves----I shall know better than to allow you to handle any but the simplest and most elementary problems. It is best to be candid about this, don’t you think? Kindest to be frank and straightforward?” “Certainly, sir.” “I mean, the surgeon’s knife, what?” “Precisely, sir.” “I consider----” “If you will pardon me for interrupting you, sir, I fancy Mrs. Travers is endeavouring to attract your attention.” And at this moment a ringing “Hoy!” which could have proceeded only from the relative in question, assured me that his view was correct. “Just step this way a moment, Attila, if you don’t mind,” boomed that well-known--and under certain conditions, well-loved--voice, and I moved over.