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to the effect that he thinks he’s a poached egg, and then they’ve got him where they want him.’
‘Well, he does something which tips them off. Your aunt was moaning to me about the situation, and I suddenly had this inspiration of bringing Glossop here. You know how I get sudden inspirations.’
‘I do. That hot-water-bottle episode.’
‘Yes, that was one of them.’
‘Ha!’
‘What did you say?’
‘Just “Ha!”’
‘Why “Ha!”?’
‘Because when I think of that night of terror, I feel like saying “Ha!”’
She seemed to see the justice of this. Pausing merely to eat a cucumber sandwich, she proceeded.
‘So I said to your aunt, “I’ll tell you what to do,” I said. “Get Glossop here,” I said, “and have him observe Wilbert Cream. Then you’ll be in a position to go to Upjohn and pull the rug from under him.”’
Again I was not abreast. There had been, as far as I could recollect, no mention of any rug.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, isn’t it obvious? “Rope in old Glossop,” I said, “and let him observe. Then you’ll be in a position,” I said, “to go to Upjohn and tell him that Sir Roderick Glossop, the greatest alienist in England, is convinced that Wilbert Cream is round the bend and to ask him if he proposes to marry his stepdaughter to a man who at any moment may be marched off and added to the membership list of Colney Hatch.” Even Upjohn would shrink from doing a thing like that. Or don’t you think so?’
I weighed this.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I should imagine you were right. Quite possibly Upjohn has human feelings, though I never noticed them when I was in statu pupillari, as I believe the expression is. One sees now why Glossop is at Brinkley Court. What one doesn’t see is why one finds him buttling.’
‘I told you that was his idea. He thought he was such a celebrated figure that it would arouse Mrs Cream’s suspicions if he came here under his own name.’
‘I see what you mean. She would catch him observing Wilbert and wonder why-‘
‘ - and eventually put two and two together -‘
‘ - and start Hey-what’s-the-big-idea-ing.’
‘Exactly. No mother likes to find that her hostess has got a brain specialist down to observe the son who is the apple of her eye. It hurts her feelings.’
‘Whereas, if she catches the butler observing him, she merely says to herself, “Ah, an observant butler.” Very sensible. With this deal Uncle Tom’s got on with Homer Cream, it would be fatal to risk giving her the pip in any way. She would kick to Homer, and Homer would draw himself up and say “After what has occurred, Travers, I would prefer to break off the negotiations,” and Uncle Tom would lose a packet. What is this deal they’ve got on, by the way? Did Aunt Dahlia tell you?’
‘Yes, but it didn’t penetrate. It’s something to do with some land your uncle owns somewhere, and Mr Cream is thinking of buying it and putting up hotels and things. It doesn’t matter, anyway. The fundamental thing, the thing to glue the eye on, is that the Cream contingent have to be kept sweetened at any cost. So not a word to a soul.’
‘Quite. Bertram Wooster is not a babbler. No spiller of the beans he. But why are you so certain that Wilbert Cream is loopy? He doesn’t look loopy to me.’
‘Have you met him?’
‘Just for a moment. He was in a leafy glade, reading poetry to the Mills girl.’
She took this big.
‘Reading poetry? To Phyllis?’
‘That’s right. I thought it odd that a chap like him should be doing such a thing. Limericks, yes. If he had been reciting limericks to her, I could have understood it. But this was stuff from one of those books they bind in limp purple leather and sell at Christmas. I wouldn’t care to swear to it, but it sounded to me extremely like Omar Khayyam.’
She continued to take it big.
‘Break it up, Bertie, break it up! There’s not a moment to be lost. You must go and break it up immediately.’
‘Who, me? Why