Дживс, вы – гений! / Thank you, Jeeves!

A close friend of J. Washburn’s and a man on whose judgment J. W. relied, I am sure that he had little difficulty in persuading the latter that I was not the ideal son-in-law[16 - son-in-law – зять]. At any rate[17 - at any rate – в любом случае], as I say, within a mere forty-eight hours of the holy moment I was notified that it would be unnecessary for me to order the new trousers and flowers, because my nomination had been cancelled.

And it was this man who dared to come at the Wooster home! I thought that he was going to say that he was sorry for his doing wrong.

I was still playing the banjolele when he arrived.

“Ah, Sir Roderick,” I said. “Good morning.”

His only reply was a grunt, and an indubitably unpleasant grunt. I felt that my diagnosis of the situation had been wrong. He was glaring at me with obvious distaste as if I had been the germ of dementia praecox[18 - dementia praecox – шизофрения].

My geniality waned. I was just about to say the old to-what-am-I-indebted-for-this-visit, when he began:

“You ought to be certified!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re a public menace[19 - public menace – угроза для общества]. For weeks, it appears, you have been making life a hell for all your neighbours with some hideous musical instrument. I see you have it with you now. How dare you play that thing in a respectable block of flats? Infernal din!”

I remained cool and dignified.

“Did you say ‘infernal din’?”

“I did.”

“Oh? Well, let me tell you that the man that hath no music in himself…” I stepped to the door. “Jeeves,” I called down the passage, “what was it Shakespeare said the man who hadn’t music in himself was fit for?”

“Treasons, stratagems, and spoils, sir.”

“Thank you, Jeeves. Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils,” I said, returning.

He danced a step or two.

“Are you aware that the occupant of the flat below, Mrs Tinkler-Moulke, is one of my patients, a woman in a highly nervous condition. I have had to give her a sedative.”

I raised a hand.

“Don’t tell me the gossip from the loony-bin[20 - loony-bin – дурдом],” I said distantly. “Might I inquire, on my side, if you are aware that Mrs Tinkler-Moulke owns a Pomeranian?”

“Don’t drivel.”

“I am not drivelling. This animal yaps all day and night. So Mrs Tinkler-Moulke has had the nerve to complain of my banjolele, has she? Ha! Let her first throw away her dog.”

“I am not here to talk about dogs. Stop annoying this unfortunate woman.”

I shook the head.

“I am sorry she is a cold audience, but my art must come first.”

“That is your final word, is it?”

“It is.”

“Very good. You will hear more of this.”

“And Mrs Tinkler-Moulke will hear more of this,” I replied, taking the banjolele.

I touched the buzzer.

“Jeeves,” I said, “show Sir R. Glossop out![21 - Show Sir R. Glossop out! – Проводите сэра Р. Глоссопа]”

* * *

With a good deal of quiet self-satisfaction I proceeded to play “The Wedding of the Painted Doll”, “Singin’ In the Rain”, “Three Little Words”, “Good-Night, Sweetheart”, “My Love Parade”, “Spring Is Here”, “Whose Baby Are You”, and part of “I Want an Automobile With a Horn That Goes Toot-Toot”, in the order named: and it was as I was approaching the end of this last number that the telephone rang.

I went to the telephone and stood listening. And, as I listened, my face grew hard and set.

“Very good, Mr Manglehoffer[22 - Manglehoffer – Манглхоффер],” I said coldly. “You may inform Mrs Tinkler-Moulke and her associates that I choose the latter alternative.”

I touched the bell.

“Jeeves,” I said, “there has been a spot of trouble.”

“Indeed, sir?”

“I have just been talking to the manager of this building on the telephone, and he has delivered an ultimatum. He says I must either stop playing the banjolele or go out.”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Complaints have been lodged by the Honourable Mrs Tinkler-Moulke, of C.6; by Lieutenant-Colonel J. J. Bustard, DSO[23 - Lieutenant-Colonel J. J. Bustard, DSO – подполковник ДЖ. ДЖ. Бастард, кавалер ордена «За выдающиеся заслуги» (военная награда Великобритании, Distinguished Service Order)], of B.5; and by Sir Everard and Lady Blennerhassett[24 - Sir Everard and Lady Blennerhassett – сэр Эверард и леди Бленнерхассет], of B.7. All right. So be it. I don’t care. We shall be rid of these Tinkler-Moulkes, these Bustards, and these Blennerhassetts. I leave them readily.”

“You are proposing to move, sir?”

I raised the eyebrows.

“Surely, Jeeves, you cannot imagine that I ever considered any other course?”

“But I fear you will encounter a similar hostility elsewhere, sir.”

“Not where I am going. I want to retire to the depths of the country. I shall find a cottage, and there resume my studies.”

“A cottage, sir?”

“A cottage, Jeeves. If possible, honeysuckle-covered[25 - honeysuckle-covered – покрытый жимолостью].”

There was a brief pause, and then Jeeves gave a sort of cough and there proceeded from his lips these incredible words:

“In that case, I fear I must give my notice[26 - give my notice – заявить об уходе].”

There was a tense silence. I stared at the man.