“The relations of the two young couples could scarcely continue distant after such an occurrence, sir.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But, dash it, if we go ringing fire bells in the night watches, shan’t we scare half the domestic staff into fits? There is one of the housemaids—Jane, I believe—who already skips like the high hills if I so much as come on her unexpectedly round a corner.”
“A neurotic girl, sir, I agree. I have noticed her. But by acting promptly we should avoid such a contingency. The entire staff, with the exception of Monsieur Anatole, will be at the ball at Kingham Manor tonight.”
“Of course. That just shows the condition this thing has reduced me to. Forget my own name next. Well, then, let’s just try to envisage. Bong goes the bell. Gussie rushes and grabs the Bassett.... Wait. Why shouldn’t she simply walk downstairs?”
“You are overlooking the effect of sudden alarm on the feminine temperament, sir.”
“That’s true.”
“Miss Bassett’s impulse, I would imagine, sir, would be to leap from her window.”
“Well, that’s worse. We don’t want her spread out in a sort of purée on the lawn. It seems to me that the flaw in this scheme of yours, Jeeves, is that it’s going to litter the garden with mangled corpses.”
“No, sir. You will recall that Mr. Travers’s fear of burglars has caused him to have stout bars fixed to all the windows.”
“Of course, yes. Well, it sounds all right,” I said, though still a bit doubtfully. “Quite possibly it may come off. But I have a feeling that it will slip up somewhere. However, I am in no position to cavil at even a 100 to 1 shot. I will adopt this policy of yours, Jeeves, though, as I say, with misgivings. At what hour would you suggest bonging the bell?”