Bertie Wooster and Jeeves in “Brinkley Manor”

I was standing on Eden-Roc in Antibes last month, and a girl I know slightly pointed to this fellow diving into the water and asked me if I didn't think that his legs were about the silliest-looking pair of props ever issued to a human being. Well, I agreed that indeed they were and, for perhaps a couple of minutes, I was extraordinarily witty and satirical about this bird's underpinnings. And guess what happened next.

I am agog to learn, sir.

A cyclone is what happened next, Jeeves, emanating from this girl. She started on my own legs, saying that they weren't much to write home about, and then she moved on to dissect my manners, morals, intellect, general physique and method of eating asparagus. By the time she'd finished, the best that could be said about poor old Bertram was that, so far as was known, he hadn't actually burnt down an orphanage.

A most illuminating story, sir.

No, no, no, no, no, Jeeves, Jeeves, you haven't had the payoff yet!

Oh, I'm so sorry, sir! The structure of your tale deceived me, for a moment, into thinking that it was over.

No, no, no, the point is that she was actually engaged to this fellow with the legs. They'd had some minor disagreement the night before, but there they were the following night, dining together, their differences made up and the love light once more in their eyes. And I expect much the same results with my cousin Angela.

I look forward to it with lively anticipation, sir.