“Very pleasant, thank you, Jeeves. Hand me a sock or two, will you?”
He did so, and I commenced to don.
“Well, Jeeves,” I said, reaching for the underlinen, “here we are again at Brinkley Court in the county of Worcestershire.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A nice mess things seem to have gone and got themselves into in this rustic joint.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The rift between Tuppy Glossop and my cousin Angela would appear to be serious.”
“Yes, sir. Opinion in the servants’ hall is inclined to take a grave view of the situation.”
“And the thought that springs to your mind, no doubt, is that I shall have my work cut out to fix things up?”
“Yes, sir.”