Jeeves and Wooster s03e04 Episode Script

The train now standing at Platform three is the 09:35 from - Madeline! - Augustus, I have such bad news.
- It's poor darling Hilda.
- Hilda? - She's broken up with Woger.
- Woger? I must be with her in her hour of need.
But I can't see your godmother by myself.
- Suppose she doesn't approve of me? - She'll love you, Augustus - 'Scuse me, sir.
Just as I do.
- But I'll be all alone! - Oh, my brave, my wonderful boy.
In you get, now.
Wait, Mad Madeline! Oh, my goodness! The address! - This club is really amazing, Jeeves.
- Indeed, sir.
Don't sound so soupy.
You won't have to lug that bag of clubs round.
- This is the whole works.
- I should not wish to be seen carrying an illegal club around Wentworth, sir.
Nothing in the rules says one can't have an adjustable iron.
I press this button, click, it's a niblick, click-click, it's a mashie niblick - click-click-click, it's a mid-mashie - Yes, thank you, sir.
Most ingenious.
All the way up to cleek.
Rule No.
14-3, sir, states that no player shall use any artificial device or unusual equipment.
The rules committee of the Royal and Ancient The rules committee of the Royal and Ancient are yesterday's men.
- They must face the modern world.
- If you say so, sir.
Mr Wooster's residence.
Good afternoon, Mrs Gregson.
No, I regret to say that Mr Wooster is not at home, Mrs Gregson.
Certainly, Mrs Gregson.
Yes, Mrs Gregson.
That was Mrs Gregson, sir.
She desires us both to visit immediately.
- And I say yes, Bertie.
- But dash it, Aunt Agatha Please! Confine that sort of language to the tap room where it belongs.
I don't know Gertrude Winkworth.
Her mother, Dame Daphne, is one of my oldest and dearest friends.
There is good blood there, Bertie.
An injection of it might fortify the jejune concoction which seems to run through the veins of the Woosters these days.
You're not suggesting I just turn up at this place and ask to marry their Gertie? Her mother confided to me that Gertrude was being pursued by some quite unsuitable sort of actor of all things.
I said to her, "She's just the girl for Bertie.
" That's another thing.
If this Gertrude Winkworth and I should hit it off, we'd be known by all and sundry as Bertie and Gertie, - like some dashed music hall act.
- Don't be such a poltroon, Bertie.
- Get him down to Deverill Hall, Jeeves.
- Very good, Mrs Gregson.
Bertie! Bertie, Bertie, Bertie! I've forgotten the address.
- Hello, Gussie.
Whose address? - I can't remember.
Dean something something.
Can't you telephone Madeline to find out? I don't know where Madeline is.
Well, I do.
The Larches, Wimbledon Common, but I don't know the telephone number.
We can look it up.
What's the name of her friend? Hilda something.
- Pardon me, sir.
- Yes, Jeeves? If it is to Miss Bassett's godmother that Mr Fink-Nottle must present himself, I think you'll find that it is Dame Daphne Winkworth.
- That's it! That's it! - How the dickens did you know that? I heard Miss Bassett's father, Sir Watkyn, mention that Miss Madeline's godmothers are Dame Daphne and Mrs Gregson.
He referred to them in a moment of grim jocularity as Scylla and Charybdis.
This is the Dame Daphne Winkworth of Deverill Hall we're under orders to see? - Indeed, sir.
- There you are, Gussie.
You can travel with us tomorrow.
Oh, no Madeline would expect me to be there tonight.
Assert your independence, Gussie.
Anyway, how will she know you're not? We could slide over to the Drones for a snifter.
All right.
Why shouldn't I? I will.
Why should I do exactly what Madeline tells me all the time? - Spoken like a true Fink-Nottle, Gussie.
- I don't tell her what to do.
Usual for me, George.
How about you, Gussie? - Orange juice, please.
- Gussie, you're a on a long leash.
- You'll drink champagne and like it.
- Oh, nearly! - Catsmeat! - What? - Bertie.
- I haven't seen you in an age.
Do you know Gussie Fink-Nottle? Claude Potter-Pirbright.
- What are you up to? - I start a new musical next week.
- Oh.
Nice part? - The usual: Bound on Act One clutching a tennis racket and shout "hello, girls," Act Two, fall in love with a parlour maid, Act Three, find out she's Lady Penelope incognito and live happily ever after.
- I don't think I've seen that one.
- What about you? Busy? Yes.
Gussie and I are going to Deverill Hall tomorrow.
- Do you know them, the Winkworths? - You trying to be funny? I'm engaged to Gertrude.
- Gertrude? As in Winkworth? - Of course.
- Oh.
- What do you mean, "Oh"? - She's wonderful, Bertie.
- Can we have the ball? - Yes, well, that's good, isn't it? - No, it's not good.
When we got engaged and broke the news to her mother, she let out a yell you could have heard in St Neots.
- St Neots being? - About 20 miles as the crow flies.
- A goodish distance.
- I haven't seen Gertrude since.
I'm trying to pluck up the courage to go down and persuade her to elope with me.
- Oh! What's her mother like? - Dame Daphne? Light-heavyweight, touch of Wallace Beery about the jaw line.
- Gussie's engaged to her goddaughter.
- I'm going to get her blessing.
- Well, I wish you luck with the aunts.
- Aunts? Dame Daphne's got about 43 sisters living with her and they let out yells too.
- Oh, dear - Why not take Catsmeat out to dinner? He doesn't eat much and he can enwisen you re these aunts over the pottage.
Owzat! Ah, Jeeves, a slight complication has arisen about the Winkworth girl - Aunt Agatha wants to pair me with.
- Indeed, sir? The actor Dame Daphne wants to head off is Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright.
Catsmeat is barmy about her apparently.
The girl, that is.
That would put you into an ambiguous situation in regard to your friendship with Mr Potter-Pirbright, sir.
Ambiguous is right.
There's nothing for it.
I shall have to throttle back on the charm.
I don't want to leave Catsmeat standing at the post.
It would seem to be a danger, sir.
Will that be all, sir? - Yes, Jeeves, that'll be all.
Yes.
- Thank you, sir.
I hunt with the East Sussex of course, but Roger said he felt a certain obligation to support the Mid-Hants.
The consequence was I never saw the little blighter at all, during the winter.
- My poor Hilda.
- Any old how, I issued an ultimatum, I'm afraid.
"Look here, Roger," I said, "either it's the Mid-Hants or it's me.
- Take your choice.
" - Oh, Hilda, you're so courageous.
Yes, well, I've not seen him since and that was six weeks ago.
Oh, it isn't fair, is it? I'm so lucky to have a man like Augustus - strong, reliable What happened to that other blighter you were keen on, - that Bertie Wooster? - Oh, poor Bertie.
He's still wildly in love with me of course, but I had to tell him that there could never be anything between us.
My heart belongs to Augustus, you see.
Of course, if Augustus and I were ever to break up Oh - I told you! - Come on, then.
I'm pretty handy with my fists, you know.
- Come on, Gussie.
- No! Let me get at him! No.
We'll go to The Blue Havoc.
They'll let us in there.
Let me get at him! It was five in the morning and we were in Trafalgar Square.
Gussie thought there might be newts in the fountain and started wading about.
You can't go wading in Trafalgar Square fountain.
- Gussie did.
- Lucky he wasn't pinched.
He was! A cop came along and gaffed him.
He was given 14 days without the option at Bosher Street Police Court.
- Do you know what, Jeeves? - No, sir.
Gussie Fink-Nottle's in stir.
Gussie Fink-Nottle's in stir! You see the ghastly position, Jeeves? What will happen when Gussie doesn't turn up? Madeline will enquire.
You know how women are for digging out the truth.
Nothing puts a girl off more than hearing a fellow is doing 14 days in chokey.
A very acute observation, sir.
There can be but one result: Gussie will get the bum's rush and the figure shambling down the aisle with Madeline while the organ plays The Voice That Breathed O'er Eden - will be Bertram Wilberforce Wooster.
- I don't see why.
Madeline Bassett believes I'm madly in love with her.
When a girl thinks you love her and says she's leaving her betrothed and is ready to sign up with you, what can you do except marry her? One has to be civil.
Ahem.
There is one possible solution, sir.
You see? "There is one possible solution, sir," just like that.
Catsmeat, Jeeves takes a size 14 hat, eats tons of fish and moves in mysterious ways his wonders to perform.
Speak, Jeeves.
Well, sir to obviate the enquiries which would be set on foot should Mr Fink-Nottle not present himself at Deverill Hall this evening, it is essential for a substitute, purporting to be Mr Fink-Nottle to take his place.
You're not suggesting that I check in at this plague pit as Gussie? Unless you persuade one of your friends to do so, sir.
You can't go round asking people to pretend to be Gussie Fink-Nottle.
Well, you can, I suppose, but what a hell of a life.
Besides, there isn't even Catsmeat! Not on.
They all know me at Deverill.
Well, I can't do it.
I can't even do an imitation of Gussie.
You'll pardon me for pointing this out, sir, but the virtue of the plan is that there is no need to approximate the look or manner of Mr Fink-Nottle.
Nobody at Deverill Hall has ever seen him.
Yes, but dash it all, Jeeves, they must have heard about him.
Let's face it, if Gussie's brain were silk, he'd be hard-put to find material to make a canary a pair of camiknickers.
Five minutes' conversation with me and they would penetrate the deception.
I'm sure that your undoubted thespian powers will see you through the day, sir.
Jeeves, what are we letting ourselves in for? I regret that I shall not be able to accompany you, sir.
Not be? Why on earth not, Jeeves? I'm sorry, sir.
The Ganymede Club would not look kindly on a gentleman's gentleman sailing, as it were, under false colours.
- Mr Fink-Nottle, sir? - No.
Oh, that's to say yes.
Fink-Nottle, yes.
I'd better dress.
I don't want to be late for dinner.
Dinner has already commenced, sir.
We dine at 7:30 punctually.
- Ah, so straight in and join the fray.
- Such were Dame Daphne's instructions.
Lead on, then.
Mr Fink-Nottle has arrived, Dame Daphne.
Oh, good.
Oh.
Fink-Nottle.
Sorry.
Dottle.
Fink-Nottle.
Mr Fink-Nottle, you're very late.
You'll have to forgo the soup and the fish.
Oh, consider them forwent.
Shall I sit here? Well, this is jolly.
Allow me to introduce my sisters.
Miss Emmeline Deverill, Miss Myrtle, Deverill, Miss Harriet Deverill and Miss Charlotte Deverill.
All the little Deverills, eh? I'm Gussie Fink-Nottle, noted newt fancier.
- What did he say? - He said he's a newt fancier.
- Is that why he's so late? - This is my daughter, Gertrude.
The nephew of a friend of mine is meant to be here.
I wonder if you know him, a Mr Wooster? Bertie Wooster? Oh, yes.
I've not actually had the pleasure, but I've heard of him.
- That's how I know his name.
- Apparently he's irresponsible.
Agatha says she wonders if the kindest thing would be to put him in a home.
Well, if that isn't just Yes, but um I wonder, have you heard the one about the, er the fan dancer and the performing flea? Ah no.
Actually, here's a better one.
Yes.
There are these three deaf chaps on a train and it stops at Wembley.
- What's he doing? - Mr Fink-Nottle is telling an anecdote.
Anyway, there it is at Wembley, and one chap says, "Is this Wembley?" - The other says, "No, it's Thursday.
" - What did he say? - He said, "No, it's Thursday.
" - No, it's not.
It's Friday.
- I know.
I changed my library book.
- It's a joke, Charlotte.
Thank you.
The third one says, "So am I.
Let's go and have a drink.
" - It's a joke about drink, Charlotte.
- No, it's not about drink.
It's about Why did the first man bring up the days of the week? No, the first man is the one who says, "Is this Wimbledon?" - No - That was the second man.
Let Mr Fink-Nottle finish his joke before we judge it.
- Well, that was it actually.
- Is it about tennis, perhaps? I don't care for jokes about tennis.
- Some jokes about tennis - No, I just cannot - Good lord, Jeeves! - Good evening, sir.
- What on earth are you doing here? - I am performing my customary office - in attending Mr Wooster.
- But Gussie? - You're meant to be in court.
- Allow me to help you, Mr Wooster.
What? Oh, yes.
- Wooster? - You must be Mr Wooster.
- Yes.
- I beg your pardon? No, no, not me.
No, I'm I'm Fink-Nottle, you know, the newt man.
- Good morning, sir.
- Never mind good morning.
- How did Gussie get out of stir? - The magistrate decided to substitute a fine for the prison sentence, sir.
I was unable to inform you as it happened when you were on your way.
So Gussie is freed from durance vile and you bring him to Deverill Hall? - Yes, sir.
- Why? It seemed the best course of action.
In the event of either of you failing to arrive, enquiries would have been instituted by either Mrs Gregson or Miss Bassett with disastrous results.
To point out just one aspect, sir, Miss Bassett is expecting daily letters from Mr Fink-Nottle describing in detail his life here.
I hadn't thought of that.
So, I'm Gussie and Gussie's me? - Yes, sir.
- Ceaseless vigilance will be required if we're not to gum up the game.
- We shall be walking on eggshells.
- A very trenchant metaphor, sir.
What ho, Gussie, or rather Bertie? - This is a pretty state of things.
- Better than being in clink though.
In prison, you don't have people calling you Mr Wooster.
How do you suppose I feel knowing everybody thinks you're me? - Shouldn't you prefer it? - Prefer it? Are you mad? How do you think I feel? Do you realise that the world of Deverill believes Bertram Wooster is an oversized gargoyle who looks like Lester the Pester in an American comic strip? In case you are under any illusion, those aunts pulled their skirts aside when I said I was Bertie Wooster and, as if that wasn't bad enough, you seem to have made my name mud, something about trains and Wimbledon and an unseemly anecdote.
What will happen if they tell Madeline I tell unseemly anecdotes? - I advise stout denial, and in any case - Mr Wooster - Mr Fink-Nottle.
- Ah.
What ho, Dame Daphne? Gertrude is on the terrace, Mr Wooster.
Well? I thought perhaps you might want to talk to her.
- What about? - Excuse us a moment, would you? Gussie, I'm meant to be wooing Gertrude Winkworth.
- Wooing? - Wooing, courting, pressing one's suit.
- Dallying with.
- I'm not going to do that.
You have to, Gussie, because you're meant to be me.
Do your own dirty work.
Suppose Madeline found out? Madeline won't find out.
She's in Wimbledon.
Yes, Bertie thinks he might totter out and have a word with Gertrude, don't you? - No! - I'm sure she'd be pleased to see you.
Yes, almost as pleased as I shall be to see Madeline.
- Yes, I've got so much to tell her.
- Well, you can Oh, very well.
What a charming fellow that Bertie Wooster is! He could charm the skin off a rice pudding.
- He seems very confused.
- Confused? Bertie Wooster? Never.
No.
One of the keenest minds of his generation.
- Hello.
- Hello, Mr Wooster.
I'm Bertie Wooster.
- Lovely morning, isn't it, Mr Wooster? - What is? The morning.
The weather.
Oh.
Do you like newts? - Newts? - I've got Gussie Fink-Nottle's got lots of newts.
I really envy him.
It must be really fulfilling to have that many newts.
- Morning, Mr Purdey.
- Morning, madam.
There you are, then.
No letter from Augustus, Hilda.
I do wish he'd write.
I say, Bertie, what a charming girl! - What? Who? - That Gertrude, Gertrude Winkworth.
- Is she? - She wants me to sing tomorrow night.
- Sing? - She heard from your Aunt Agatha what an expert you are on modern dance music, and as she thought I was you, she said I could entertain everyone after dinner.
- Can you sing, Gussie? - Probably.
- What do you mean, "Probably"? - Well, I haven't tried yet, have I? I thought you could teach me a couple of those songs.
- Do you play the piano, Gussie? - Yes.
I'm better at the oboe.
Really? No, I think the piano's a more usual sort of thing.
Now, this is a good one, yes.
Shall I play it, give you the idea, then you have a go.
- All right.
- Right.
One, two, three, four.
# Some people make a fuss # When a thing goes wrong # Some stop and swear and cuss # Others sing a song # I don't do either # That's all napoo # When a thing goes wrong with me, # This is what I do # I lift up my finger and I say, "Tweet-tweet, # "Shush-shush, now-now, come-come" # I don't need to linger when I say, "Tweet-tweet, shush-shush " # Stop! Are you mad?! Do you think I'm going to stand in front of people and sing tweet-tweet, ha-ha, hee-hee? - No, the second one's shush-shush.
- What does it all mean? It's the absolute dernier cri, Gussie.
As cries go, this is as dernier as you can get.
- It's absolute gibberish! - Well, if you want intellectual content Ah, this is the one.
Right, here we go.
# How do you feel when you marry your ideal? # Ever so goosie-goosie-goosie goo-sie # How do you feel when the bells begin to peal? # Ever so goosie-goosie-goosie goo-sie # Walking up the aisle in a kind of daze # Do you get the wind up when the organ plays? # How do you feel when the parson's done the deal? # Ever so goosie-goosie-goosie goo-sie # Oh, I like that.
That's very good! Let me have a go.
- Gertrude will love this.
- She'd have to have a heart of stone What do you mean, "Gertrude will love this"? She's the one who wanted me to play.
Madeline never wanted me to play.
Madeline doesn't think you're me.
Don't you sometimes feel that Madeline's a bit, well, soppy, Bertie? Madeline? Soppy? All that business about bunny rabbits and the stars being God's daisy chain.
No, no-no-no-no.
Madeline's beliefs are out of the ordinary, but sound, Gussie, extremely sound.
I think it would be a mistake to think of her as soppy.
Well, let's get on with this.
Ah, Jeeves, sorry to disturb you in your lair.
Not at all, sir.
I don't like the way things are going.
Fink-Nottle appears to be besotted by this Gertrude female.
- I feared that this might be the case, sir.
- It's only to be expected.
The impact of a girl like Gertrude in spring on a fathead like Gussie, weakened by swilling orange juice, must be terrific.
- What are we going to do, Jeeves? - I've taken the liberty, sir, of arranging a three-ball this afternoon between Miss Winkworth, - Mr Fink-Nottle and yourself.
- Golf? At a time like this? With Gussie? He's a terrible golfer.
Gertrude takes golf seriously.
She plays off six.
- Such is my understanding, sir.
- She'll see his abysmal putting and his laughable game off the tee and cast him aside like a spilt beverage.
Jeeves, how could I ever doubt you? I could not say, sir.
Psst! Psst! Claude! Well, just where have you been, Mr Potter-Pirbright? Me? Well, after that row with your mother That was three weeks ago! You haven't telephoned Anyway, I'm here now, and I've decided I want you to elope with me.
Oh, do you just? Good of you to let me know.
Well, you can just jolly well go back to London and - Catsmeat? - Shh! - I'm in disguise.
- Pathetic, isn't it? That face fungus? It wouldn't fool a parrot.
- I'm your man.
- What do you mean, you're my man? Your valet.
It's the ideal way for me to come and see Gertrude incognito.
My name's going to be Meadows.
Are you mad? - Mr Fink-Nottle - Oh, my God.
What ho, Dame Daphne? - Don't I recognise you? - I hope so.
I was at dinner last night.
- No, you.
- No.
No.
- I'm his man.
- Man? A lackey, serf, valet.
Your face seems very familiar.
It's that sort of face.
You see them all over the shop.
Anyhow, you may go about your business.
I want to speak to your master.
What's this I hear, Mr Fink-Nottle? - I beg your pardon? - I've had a telegram from Madeline.
- Oh, yes? - Madeline says she has not received a single letter from you since you arrived at the hall and she is distressed at your abominable neglect.
And I'm not surprised.
Oh, right.
Yes, well, I'll dash off a line as soon as we get back from the golf.
Please do, Mr Fink-Nottle.
Right.
- Gentlemen.
- Morning, sir.
What's this about you not writing to Madeline? - Madeline? - She's sending telegrams about it.
- For all our sakes, Gussie, write to her.
- I am not at all pleased with Madeline.
She made me come to this ghastly place and I only consented on the understanding that she'd come too, and then, at the last moment, she backed out on the flimsy plea that some friend needs her.
She must be made to realise she can't do that sort of thing, so I'm not going to write to her.
It's a sort of a system.
Gussie, will you or will you not compose an eight-page letter breathing love in every syllable and post it to Madeline? - Not.
- Come on, Bertie.
Right-o.
Ahem.
- Excellent shot! - Oh, well struck, sir.
- What club will you use, Gussie? - Same one.
I press this button, click, it's a niblick, click-click, a mashie niblick, click-click-click, a mid-mashie.
Say goodbye to heavy golf bag misery.
Not having much luck with that new club, Bertie.
It takes a bit of getting used to.
You can't just pick it up and Here, let me have a go.
You can use my clubs for the rest of the round.
Fine stroke, sir.
Splendid.
Bertie, you were wonderful.
- What are you doing here, Catsmeat? - Waiting for you.
- What does Fink-Nottle think he's up to? - Gussie Fink-Nottle is a criminal lunatic.
He seems to be infatuated with Gertrude.
Sorry to use such long words, Bertie.
I come all the way here to persuade Gertrude to elope with me and I can't get near her for that blasted Fink-Nottle.
Worse than that, he won't write to Madeline.
You know the importance girls attach to letters.
- And he won't write? - Not a line.
I pleaded with him and he put his ears back and refused to cooperate.
If Madeline doesn't receive a letter swearing undying fealty, she's liable to come here and beat one out of him.
- Jeeves, I'm sunk.
- Well, sir, if Mr Fink-Nottle will not write to Miss Bassett, perhaps you might.
But, Jeeves, she wants to hear from Gussie.
If it were indicated that Mr Fink-Nottle had sprained his wrist and had to dictate a letter to you, sir I say! What a wheeze! - You were right about him.
- Thank you, sir.
If you said 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 best in such circumstances.
What a man, Bertie! What a brain, and all this is due to fish, you say? Never mind Jeeves's diet, Catsmeat.
Writing paper instanta.
If Madeline's withers are to be wrung, we must catch the five o'clock post.
"Dear "Dearest Madeline "My dearest My dearest.
" And now for a real treat.
Mr Wooster has kindly consented to entertain us all with some songs at the piano.
# Maud and Fred were courting # The wedding day drew near # Said Fred to Maud one evening, # I wish you'd tell me, dear, # How do you feel when you marry your ideal? # Ever so goothie-goothie-goothie goo-thie # How do you feel when the bells begin to peal # Ever so goothie-goothie-goothie goo-thie # Walking up the aisle # If this doesn't bring Gertrude to her senses, nothing will.
Goodbye.
# How do you feel when you marry your ideal? # I say, this is dashed decent of you, doing your normal stint and pandering to Gussie's every whim.
Mr Fink-Nottle's whims are few and far between, sir.
Are we surprised, Jeeves? Shut away in Lincolnshire, surrounded by newts and orange juice, surely even the strongest whim would wither on the vine.
A lesson to us all, sir.
Was the musical entertainment a success, sir? From our point of view, Jeeves, a blinder.
Gussie will shortly be banished to his room a broken and rejected man.
# Do you get the wind up when the organ plays # How do you feel when the parson's done the deal? # Ever so goothie-goothie-goothie goo-thie # Isn't he marvellous? He's just like Jack Buchanan.
He is like Jack Buchanan.
Yes I love Jack Buchanan.
Gertrude says he's like Jack Buchanan, Charlotte.
Oh, is he? Telegram for Mr Fink-Nottle.
Thank you, Tom.
Telegram for Mr Fink-Nottle, Meadows.
His singing was bad enough before, but with the added magic of stage fright - It's an absolute calamity, Bertie.
- I know.
I heard it.
- No, you don't understand.
They love it! - What? You hear of people being lionised.
I wondered what it was like.
Now I know.
Gussie? But he was making the most frightful row.
The whole grisly crew think it was wonderful and Gertrude's all over him.
Well, that's it, Jeeves.
We're finished.
- She loves his golf and his singing.
- He's got a telegram too.
Who'd be sending telegrams to Gussie? - Go on.
- Go on what? - Open it.
- I can't.
It's addressed to Gussie.
Well, it's probably for you.
- Go on.
- No, Catsmeat.
- The code of the Woosters restrains me.
- Well, it wouldn't restrain me.
The code of the Woosters is more rigid than the code of the Catsmeats.
A Wooster cannot open another's telegram.
Pardon me for intervening, sir, but perhaps it would alleviate the ethical pressure if I were to open the communication and read it out.
Sterling notion, Jeeves.
It's from Miss Bassett, sir.
"Letter received.
Cannot understand why not had reassuring telegram.
"Sure you concealing accident terribly serious, fever, anxiety.
Fear worst.
"Unless hear from you soon, will arrive by earliest train.
"Love.
Kisses.
Madeline.
" Well, that's - Gussie, I've got to talk to you.
- Sorry, Bertie, I haven't got time.
There's a lovely full moon.
Gertrude and I are going for a walk.
I'm going to get a muffler.
Oh, remember pestering me to write to Madeline? Well, I wrote to her this afternoon.
- Why are you looking like a dying duck? - Because I wrote to her for you.
- What do you mean, for me? - I said you were indisposed.
- Something about a horse.
- A horse? You do the most extraordinary things, Bertie.
Anyway, it really doesn't matter, because what I said in my letter was everything was off.
- Off? - I've broken the engagement.
I've been feeling for some days now that Madeline, although a nice enough girl, just won't do.
My heart belongs to Gertrude.
Bye, Bertie.
Housebreaking during the hours of daylight is a serious offence, sir.
I have to get that letter before Madeline reads it.
You don't have to be involved.
Just start the car.
Very good, sir.
- Right, then, bye.
- Bye, Sam.
Come on, Pansy.
Madeline, breakfast.
We can do the flowers later.
Leave the sitting room for now, Jane.
I'm just going in.
Oh - Good morning, Madeline.
- Good morning, Hilda.
There's no letter from Augustus again.
I'm so worried, Hilda.
I think I shall go down to Deverill by an earlier train.
If there isn't a letter, all it means is that that other fellow, Wooster, is fed up with having Gussie dictate letters to him.
- He's dippy about you, isn't he? - He loves me very very dearly.
It's a tragedy.
I can't describe to you, Hilda, the look of dumb suffering in his eyes when we meet.
- My photograph! - What? It's not on the table.
It's gone! I expect Jane smashed it.
She smashes everything that isn't made of iron.
I'll go and ask her.
Oh, quiet, Pansy.
What's the matter, you silly ass? Pansy Jane says she Hilda! Oh, Hilda, what are you doing with that gun?! - There's a damned man behind the sofa.
- No! All right, you, come out with your hands up.
- No, you don't! - Ah! Stop, thief! Sir, over here.
Oi! You stop where you are, my lad! Come back here! We don't want no trouble.
It's Bertie! Come back here! - Oh, Bertie! - I'll get you yet! You won't get far! Morning, Constable.
Yes Mr Wooster, this is a most horrible crime of which you stand accused.
In all my years on the bench, I've never been called upon to preside over such a case as this.
That such a crime could be perpetrated in Wimbledon in broad daylight, will bring a shudder to every right-thinking person.
Have you anything to say in your defence before I pass sentence? - Well - He did it for love, Your Honour.
For what? Love.
I am not ashamed to say it.
And who, my dear, are you? My name is Madeline Bassett.
I am the unworthy object of this gentleman's adoration.
He's a very lucky young man, Miss Bassett.
Not so, Your Honour.
I am betrothed to another, but Bertie has gone on worshipping me, outwardly gay and cheerful, inwardly gnawed by a ceaseless pain.
Go on.
I ought to have given him my photograph long ago, but I thought it would be too painful for him, Your Honour, a sad reminder of all that he had lost.
- No, no - Be quiet! I see now that I was wrong, Bertie.
You found the strain too great to bear.
You had to have it, whatever the cost, so you stole into the house and took it.
You're a very fortunate young man, Mr Wooster, to have this girlie speak up for you.
The case is dismissed.
Oh - Now, look here, Madeline - You must be brave, Bertie.
I have to go to Augustus now.
He needs me too.
Someday, another girl will come into your life and you will be happy.
When we are both old and grey, we shall laugh together over all this.
Laugh, but I think with a tear behind the smile.
How sad life is.
You betcha.
Fetch the car, Jeeves.
She's going to Deverill Hall.
- We've got to get there before her.
- Very good, sir.
- Why, Mrs Gregson! - Oh, Madeline! - You're not going to Deverill, are you? - I most certainly am, child.
- You'll pardon me saying so, sir - What is it, Jeeves? The needle on the speedometer indicates that we are travelling at 85 miles to the hour, sir.
Good lord! Is that all? I'd like to alert you to the smell of burning, sir.
- Burning, Jeeves? - I'm sure it's of no consequence.
That's not burning.
That's the smell of hot oil and pounding pistons.
The ideal running temperature of an engine I'm so glad you could come, Agatha.
Just in time to announce the engagement, I think.
- Oh, Mummy.
- Bertie? He is engaged? Such a delightful boy.
To Gertrude? - A very parfait genteel knight.
- Abstemious.
There must be some mistake.
- Talented.
- Oh, no, no.
- Intelligent.
- Surely not! Ah, Gertrude, I hoped I'd find you Gussie, you're all right! - Madeline! - Pardon me, Madeline.
Would you not touch Bertie in that way? He doesn't like it.
- Bertie? What do you mean, Bertie? - It's all Bertie Wooster's fault.
What is happening? Is this man not Bertie Wooster? Of course he's not Bertie Wooster! - Gussie, what have you been doing? - He said he was going to marry me.
Madeline, I can explain! Oh, what a journey we had.
We completely Claude! Claude! - Girl, will you stop crying? - There, there If he's Fink-Nottle, who's the other one? Ah, what ho, Deverills all? Claude! Claude! I've been such a fool! Of course I'll marry you.
- Let's leave right away.
- Oh.
Right.
Pardon me, Mr Potter-Pirbright, but I wonder if I might borrow your moustache? Sorry I missed lunch but I had to pop up to Wimbledon to see Madeline.
She's well, very Madelinish, if you know what I mean.
Bertie! Ah.
Aunt Agatha, this is a surprise.
I want an explanation, Bertie.
- An - And I want it now.
He said he was Mr Fink-Nottle.
- The thing is, Aunt Agatha - All right.
Scotland Yard.
- I'm looking for one Bertram Wooster.
- Scotland Yard? - That's me.
- I am arresting you, Bertram Wooster, on charges relating to the possession of an illegal golf club.
- Will you come quietly? - That is brilliant! Now, then, less of that.
Let's have no funny business.
I can't endure it! Oh, the shame of it! - What a wheeze, Jeeves.
- I'm glad to have been of service, sir.
You know, Jeeves, if someone were to come to me and ask if I'd join a society whose aim was the suppression of aunts or who will see to it that they're kept on a short chain and not permitted to scatter desolation on all sides, I'd reply, "Wilberhulme " if his name was Wilberhulme, "Wilberhulme, put me down as a foundation member.
I'm sure such a society would not be lacking for subscribers, sir.