Because I've been reading Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit...



17th July, 19--, 12.30 p.m.

(Reply paid)

JEEVES RETURN SOONEST STOP YOUR REPLACEMENT UTTER TYRANT STOP AM AFRAID TO SIT LEST I DENT A CUSHION STOP WOOSTER

17th July, 19--, 3.13 p.m.

REGRET UNABLE TO COMPLY STOP PERSONAL CIRCUMSTANCES FORBID STOP WILL ARRANGE MORE SUITABLE VALET JEEVES

18th July, 19--, 9.15 a.m.

(Replay paid)

DON'T TALK ROT STOP COME BACK ALL IS FORGIVEN STOP WILL OTHERWISE GO INSANE STOP AM UP AT UNGODLY HOUR BECAUSE TYRANT WOULDN'T SERVE BREAKFAST AFTER 8.30 WOOSTER

18th July, 19--, 12.15 a.m.

APOLOGISE FOR REPLACEMENT'S BEHAVIOUR STOP BUT AFRAID CANNOT RETURN JEEVES

19th July, 19--

Jeeves,

What the devil are you talking about? Personal circumstances? Unable to comply? Cannot return? I thought you were going on a week's holiday in Brighton, but it's been three weeks since I bid you the customary fond farewell and I have not, as the saying goes, seen hide nor hair of you. Was it something I said? And don't try to fob me off with this talk of replacements, either. You are very much one of a kind. That proverb you once quoted to me applies here. I don't know it goes precisely, but it's the one about potters or some such artisan. At any rate, there is no valet in all of England with your talents, Jeeves, and I have been utterly lost without you. So come back.

Yours,

B. W. Wooster.

20th July, 19--

Sir,

Although I am gratified by your estimation of my talents, I believe it is somewhat exaggerated. I regret having engaged an unsuitable valet on your behalf, and will endeavour to contact an acquaintance in the Junior Ganymede club whose character is more flexible.

Personal circumstances the details of which I am not at liberty to indulge prevent me from returning to your service.

Yours sincerely,

Reginald Jeeves.

21st July, 19--

Jeeves,

I say, that's dashed hard of you, and a trifle cold-blooded, if you don't mind my saying so. What on earth makes you think that if I say I'm lost without you, I really mean I can do perfectly well as long as I have a valet who serves me breakfast at 10 a.m. earliest? And what is this rot about personal circumstances? I don't know what on earth these circumstances might be, and I have every intention of hounding you with endless letters until either I find out or you come back. Of course, if I were you I should come up with some frightfully clever scheme and find out by myself, but as it is I am compelled, nay, forced to ask you over and over again until you tell me.

I never knew your first name was Reginald. I can't say it suits you.

Yours,

B. W. Wooster.

22nd July, 19--

Sir,

You may not think it suits me, but it is my name nevertheless. I will write no further letters regarding the circumstances that keep me out of your service. This correspondence is closed.

Yours sincerely,

Reginald Jeeves.

22nd July, 19--

Jeeves,

You wound me to the heart with all this uncommunicative nonsense. Tush, I say, and fie! Sort out your personal circumstances with the brilliance that only you can display, then pack your bags and come back.

The tyrant has been replaced (no doubt at your behest) by a stripling, a mere youth, who can mix a marvelous cocktail but has no more idea of how to make an omelette than I do. Words cannot express how distressing it is to wake up knowing one shall have nothing more substantial than toast for one's breakfast. I don't doubt it shall drive me to drink pretty soon.

Come back. Please.

Wooster.

23rd July, 19--

Jeeves,

I see you meant it when you said there would be no further letters. Dash it all, Jeeves, what on earth is wrong? Are you getting married? Did somebody die? Did I offend you? Have you been masquerading all these years as a simple valet but are actually a master criminal on the run from the fuzz?

Perhaps I can help you, Jeeves. I would be only too glad to try. You've saved my bacon enough times. Do write back and tell me what's going on.

The stripling has not improved, and yesterday he neglected to add an olive to my martini. Such slackness in today's youth is most disheartening.

Bertie.

25th July, 19--

Dear Mr Wooster,

I do apologise for any distress my absence may have caused you, and I must express my thanks for your offer of help. However, I fear that my returning to your service would merely exacerbate the problem. I assure you, nothing you have said or done has offended me; quite to the contrary.

Yours,

Reginald Jeeves.

27th July, 19--

Jeeves,

I notice you didn't answer my question. You are a true master of the evasive response, and I tip my hat to you.

I may not have offended you -- at least, I take your word that I haven't, which is some comfort -- but if you can't come back because coming back would make it worse, it must have something to do with either me or the flat. (There's a nice bit of deductive reasoning for you. I think you must have rubbed off on me.) I can't think of anything about the flat that would prompt an otherwise mentally stable valet to up sticks to Brighton without so much as a by-your-leave, so it must be something about me.

Does it help if I say again how much I miss you?

Please come back.

Bertie.

to be continued...