I own nothing, save those people of my own invention. R&R!
I forget the name of the theatre that Bingo and I rolled up at. It had lots of gold leaf, and mirrors. Rather jolly. The show was some weird drama, which was apparently about two star-crossed lovers, torn apart by the girl's obstinate father, or something. It was all pretty mundane, until the interval. At this point, I began telling Bingo my troubles. The ass laughed a carefree laugh, and told me I should be grateful. He pointed out, that, he had had a dickens of a time trying to get a wife, and that I should think myself lucky, if all these girls kept throwing themselves at me.
I was somewhat perturbed. I asked who 'all these girls' were, and he started listing all the females I have ever been engaged too, most disturbing and uncomfortable.
At this point, the blighter wondered off to fetch some refreshment. He shot back like my Aunt Agatha when her nephew has disobeyed her command, and she slithers round to dish out punishment.
"Bertie, old man! Guess who I've just seen?"
"Who?"
"Well, I heard some girls near the front, talking. One of them was called Olivia Georgehath. Isn't she the one you're going to be engaged to?"
"Yes, by jove! Where is she now?"
Bingo began to giggle pretty freely. He pointed toward two women at the front, bustling back to their seats, single file. The one at the back was medium height, very slender, with blonde hair, a small nose and rosebud lips. Rather a sweet looking girl, I thought. The one in front was an enormous girl, with a great girth, a red face, piggy eyes and a double chin. I didn't like the look of her much.
"I say, Bingo, which is Olivia?"
"The large one."
"Oh my Aunt. . . ."
The next day, about one-ish, I set off for the Georgehath's living quarters. It was one of those red brick town houses, you know, with big windows.
I gave the door a sound beating, and it opened, revealing an extremely tall butler, with an especially large hooter. He peered at me a bit, and then spoke thus:
"Mr Wooster?"
"Oh, ah, yes that's me!"
He spoke with an irritating, nasal drawl. Not nice, when you confront him at the door of hell, knowing that far worse horrors than the local butler await you within, horrors like an obese female, who the devil herself has advocated for you to marry.
The nasal chappy lead me into a long dark hall, with lots of wooden panels. He hobbled off, grunting. After quite a long while, that was spent goggling at the family photos on the wall, a very slim girl bobbed up. I recognised her as the one at the theatre. You must believe me when I tell you that she looked prettier close up than from afar.
I also observed that she was wearing the tawdry rags of some sort of maid. I was shocked. But, surely, most housemaids didn't attend theatres, with the daughter of the house.
"What ho!"
"Oh, afternoon, sir. May I ask if you're Mr Wooster?"
"Oh yes, certainly. I am Mr Wooster."
"The lady, Miss Olivia, wishes to see you, sir."
"Yes, I was hoping someone would come and show me too her."
This was a lie, of course. The last thing I would ever hope would be to be shown to Olivia Georgehath.
"Oh, follow me, sir."
She lead me up lots of spiralled stairs, through many hallways, and eventually to some big, double wooden doors. "In here, sir." The maid said.
I gulped, and ran a finger round the inside of my collar.
I forget the name of the theatre that Bingo and I rolled up at. It had lots of gold leaf, and mirrors. Rather jolly. The show was some weird drama, which was apparently about two star-crossed lovers, torn apart by the girl's obstinate father, or something. It was all pretty mundane, until the interval. At this point, I began telling Bingo my troubles. The ass laughed a carefree laugh, and told me I should be grateful. He pointed out, that, he had had a dickens of a time trying to get a wife, and that I should think myself lucky, if all these girls kept throwing themselves at me.
I was somewhat perturbed. I asked who 'all these girls' were, and he started listing all the females I have ever been engaged too, most disturbing and uncomfortable.
At this point, the blighter wondered off to fetch some refreshment. He shot back like my Aunt Agatha when her nephew has disobeyed her command, and she slithers round to dish out punishment.
"Bertie, old man! Guess who I've just seen?"
"Who?"
"Well, I heard some girls near the front, talking. One of them was called Olivia Georgehath. Isn't she the one you're going to be engaged to?"
"Yes, by jove! Where is she now?"
Bingo began to giggle pretty freely. He pointed toward two women at the front, bustling back to their seats, single file. The one at the back was medium height, very slender, with blonde hair, a small nose and rosebud lips. Rather a sweet looking girl, I thought. The one in front was an enormous girl, with a great girth, a red face, piggy eyes and a double chin. I didn't like the look of her much.
"I say, Bingo, which is Olivia?"
"The large one."
"Oh my Aunt. . . ."
The next day, about one-ish, I set off for the Georgehath's living quarters. It was one of those red brick town houses, you know, with big windows.
I gave the door a sound beating, and it opened, revealing an extremely tall butler, with an especially large hooter. He peered at me a bit, and then spoke thus:
"Mr Wooster?"
"Oh, ah, yes that's me!"
He spoke with an irritating, nasal drawl. Not nice, when you confront him at the door of hell, knowing that far worse horrors than the local butler await you within, horrors like an obese female, who the devil herself has advocated for you to marry.
The nasal chappy lead me into a long dark hall, with lots of wooden panels. He hobbled off, grunting. After quite a long while, that was spent goggling at the family photos on the wall, a very slim girl bobbed up. I recognised her as the one at the theatre. You must believe me when I tell you that she looked prettier close up than from afar.
I also observed that she was wearing the tawdry rags of some sort of maid. I was shocked. But, surely, most housemaids didn't attend theatres, with the daughter of the house.
"What ho!"
"Oh, afternoon, sir. May I ask if you're Mr Wooster?"
"Oh yes, certainly. I am Mr Wooster."
"The lady, Miss Olivia, wishes to see you, sir."
"Yes, I was hoping someone would come and show me too her."
This was a lie, of course. The last thing I would ever hope would be to be shown to Olivia Georgehath.
"Oh, follow me, sir."
She lead me up lots of spiralled stairs, through many hallways, and eventually to some big, double wooden doors. "In here, sir." The maid said.
I gulped, and ran a finger round the inside of my collar.