Right Ho, Jeeves

“Don’t apologize, ducky. Can’t you see how pleased we all are? What were you doing out here, anyway?” “Just taking a stroll.” “I see. And are you proposing to continue your stroll?” “No, I think I’ll go in now.” “That’s fine. Because I was thinking of going in, too, and I don’t believe I could sleep knowing you were out here giving rein to that powerful imagination of yours. The next thing that would happen would be that you would think you saw a pink elephant sitting on the drawing-room window-sill and start throwing bricks at it.... Well, come on, Tom, the entertainment seems to be over.... But wait. The newt king wishes a word with us.... Yes, Mr. Fink-Nottle?” Gussie, as he joined our little group, seemed upset about something. “I say!” “Say on, Augustus.” “I say, what are we going to do?” “Speaking for myself, I intend to return to bed.” “But the door’s shut.” “What door?” “The front door. Somebody must have shut it.” “Then I shall open it.” “But it won’t open.” “Then I shall try another door.” “But all the other doors are shut.” “What? Who shut them?” “I don’t know.” I advanced a theory! “The wind?” Aunt Dahlia’s eyes met mine. “Don’t try me too high,” she begged. “Not now, precious.” And, indeed, even as I spoke, it did strike me that the night was pretty still. Uncle Tom said we must get in through a window. Aunt Dahlia sighed a bit. “How? Could Lloyd George do it, could Winston do it, could Baldwin do it? No. Not since you had those bars of yours put on.”