You see the ghastly position, Jeeves? What is going to happen when Gussie doesn't turn up at Deverill Hall? Madeline will make inquiries. You know what women are like for digging out the truth. And nothing puts an idealistic young girl off a fellow more than the news that he's doing fourteen days in chokey.
There can be but one result. Gussie will get the bum's rush, and the bowed figure you will see shambling down the aisle at Madeline Bassett's side, while the organ plays "The Voice That Breathed O'er Eden," will be Bertram Wilberforce Wooster.
[sighs] Madeline Bassett labors under the delusion that I'm madly in love with her. Well, when a girl thinks you're in love with her and comes to you and says that she's returning her betrothed to store and is prepared to sign up with you instead, what can you do except marry her? One has to be civil.
[to Catsmeat] You see? "There is one possible solution, sir" — just like that. For your information, Catsmeat, Jeeves takes a size 14 hat, eats tons of fish and moves in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform. [to Jeeves] Speak, Jeeves.
I am not at all pleased with Madeline. It was she who made me come to this ghastly place. I only consented on the understanding that she'd come too. Then, at the last moment, she coolly backed out on the flimsy plea that some school friend of hers needs her. She must be made to realize she can't do that sort of thing. So I'm not going to write to her. It's a sort of a system.
Thank you, sir. [to Bertie] If you were to say that Mr. Fink-Nottle had given his wrist a nasty wrench while stopping a runaway horse and saving a little child from a hideous death, it might turn Mr. Fink-Nottle's taciturnity to your advantage, sir. A golden-haired child is usually best in such circumstances.
[playing the piano and singing horribly off-key while lisping] How do you feel / When you marry your ideal? / Ever tho goothey, goothey, goothey, goothey...
You know, Jeeves, if someone were to come to me and ask if I'd be willing to join a society whose aim will be the suppression of aunts — or who will at least see to it that they are kept on a short chain and not permitted to roam at will, scattering desolation on all sides — I'd reply "Wilbraham" — if his name was Wilbraham, that is — "Wilbraham, put me down as a foundation member."
