‘Of course I do, Roderick. It’s only a month or so ago that he and that aunt of his stole my cow-creamer.’
‘What’s a cow-creamer?’ asked Plank. ‘A silver cream jug, one of the gems of my collection.’
‘They got away with it, did they?’
‘They did.’
‘Ah,’ said Plank. ‘Then in that case I think I’ll have a whisky and soda.’
Pop Bassett was warming to his theme. His voice rose above the hissing of Plank’s syphon.
‘And it was only by the mercy of Providence that Wooster didn’t make off with my umbrella that day in the Brompton Road. If that young man has one defect more marked than another, it is that he appears to be totally ignorant of the distinction between meum and tuum. He came up before me in my court once, I remember, charged with having stolen a policeman’s helmet, and it is a lasting regret to me that I merely fined him five pounds.’
‘Mistaken kindness,’ said Spode.
‘So I have always felt, Roderick. A sharper lesson might have done him all the good in the world.’
‘Never does to let these fellows off lightly,’ said Plank. ‘I had a servant chap in Mozambique who used to help himself to my cigars, and I foolishly overlooked it because he assured me he had got religion and everything would be quite all right from now on. And it wasn’t a week later that he skipped out, taking with him a box of Havanas and my false teeth, which he sold to one of the native chiefs in the neighbourhood. Cost me a case of trade gin and two strings of beads to get them back. Severity’s the only thing. The iron hand. Anything else is mistaken for weakness.’
Madeline gave a sob, at least it sounded like a sob.
‘But, Daddy.’
‘Well?’
‘I don’t think Bertie can help himself.’
‘My dear child, it is precisely his habit of helping himself to everything he can lay his hands on that we are criticizing.’
‘I mean, he’s a kleptomaniac.’
‘Eh? Who told you that?’
‘Jeeves.’
‘That’s odd. How did the subject come up?’
‘He told me when he gave me this. He found it in Bertie’s room. He was very worried about it.’
There was a spot of silence – of a stunned nature, I imagine. Then Pop Bassett said ‘Good heavens!’ and Spode said ‘Good Lord!’ and Plank said, ‘Why, that’s that little thingummy I sold you, Bassett, isn’t it?’ Madeline gave another sob, and my nose began to tickle again.
‘Well, this is astounding!’ said Pop. ‘He found it in Wooster’s room, you say?’
‘Concealed beneath his underwear.’
Pop Bassett uttered a sound like the wind going out of a dying duck.
‘How right you were, Roderick! You said his motive in coming here was to steal this. But how he got into the collection room I cannot understand.’
‘These fellows have their methods.’
‘Seems to be a great demand for that thing,’ said Plank. ‘There was a young slab of damnation with a criminal face round at my place only yesterday trying to sell it to me.’
‘Wooster!’
‘No, it wasn’t Wooster. My fellow’s name was Alpine Joe.’
‘Wooster would naturally adopt a pseudonym.’
‘I suppose he would. I never thought of that.’
‘Well, after this -‘ said Pop Bassett.
‘Yes, after this,’ said Spode, ‘you’re certainly not going to marry the man, Madeline. He’s worse than Fink-Nottle.’
‘Who’s Fink-Nottle?’ asked Plank.
‘The one who eloped with Stoker,’ said Pop.
‘Who’s Stoker?’ asked Plank. I don’t think I’ve ever come across a fellow with a greater thirst for information.
‘The cook.’
‘Ah yes. I remember you telling me. Knew what he was doing, that chap. I’m strongly opposed to anyone marrying anybody, but if you’re going to marry someone, you unquestionably save something from the wreck by marrying a woman who knows what to do with a joint of beef. There was a fellow I knew in the Federated Malay States who -‘
It would probably have been a diverting anecdote, but Spode didn’t let him get on with it any further. Addressing Madeline, he said:
‘What you’re going to do is marry me, and I don’t want any argument. How about it, Madeline?’