(c) How is the ancestor to extract that money from Runkle?

(d) How is Ginger to marry Magnolia Glendennon while betrothed to Florence?

and I was returning with all four still in status quo. For a night and day I had been giving them the cream of the Wooster brain, and for all I had accomplished I might have been the aged relative trying to solve the Observer crossword puzzle.

Arriving at journey's end, I steered the car into the drive. About half-way along it there was a tricky right-hand turn, and I had slowed down to negotiate this, when a dim figure appeared before me, a voice said, 'Hoy!', and I saw that it was Ginger.

He seemed annoyed about something. His 'Hoy!' had had a note of reproach in it, as far as it is possible to get the note of reproach into a 'Hoy!', and as he drew near and shoved his torso through the window I received the distinct impression that he was displeased.

His opening words confirmed this.

'Bertie, you abysmal louse, what's kept you all this time? When I lent you my car, I didn't expect you'd come back at two o'clock in the morning.'

'It's only half-past seven.'

He seemed amazed.

'Is that all? I thought it was later. So much has been happening.'

'What has been happening?'

'No time to tell you now. I'm in a hurry.'

It was at this point that I noticed something in his appearance which I had overlooked. A trifle, but I'm rather observant.

'You've got egg in your hair,' I said.

'Of course I've got egg in my hair,' he said, his manner betraying impatience. 'What did you expect me to have in my hair, Chanel Number Five?'

'Did somebody throw an egg at you?'

'Everybody threw eggs at everybody. Correction. Some of them threw turnips and potatoes.'

'You mean the meeting broke up in disorder, as the expression is?'

'I don't suppose any meeting in the history of English politics has ever broken up in more disorder. Eggs flew hither and thither. The air was dark with vegetables of every description. Sidcup got a black eye. Somebody plugged him with a potato.'

I found myself in two minds. On the one hand I felt a pang of regret for having missed what had all the earmarks of having been a political meeting of the most rewarding kind: on the other, it was like rare and refreshing fruit to hear that Spode had got hit in the eye with a potato. I was conscious of an awed respect for the marksman who had accomplished this feat. A potato, being so nobbly in shape, can be aimed accurately only by a master hand.

'Tell me more,' I said, well pleased.

'Tell you more be blowed. I've got to get up to London. We want to be there bright and early tomorrow in order to inspect registrars and choose the best one.'

This didn't sound like Florence, who, if she ever gets through an engagement without breaking it, is sure to insist on a wedding with bishops, bridesmaids, full choral effects, and a reception afterwards. A sudden thought struck me, and I think I may have gasped. Somebody made a noise like a dying soda-water syphon and it was presumably me.

'When you say «we», do you mean you and M. Glendennon?'

'Who else?'

'But how?'

'Never mind how.'

'But I do mind how. You were Problem (d) on my list, and I want to know how you have been solved. I gather that Florence has remitted your sentence –'

'She has, in words of unmistakable clarity. Get out of that car.'

'But why?'

'Because if you aren't out of it in two seconds, I'm going to pull you out.'

'I mean why did she r. your s.?'

'Ask Jeeves,' he said, and attaching himself to the collar of my coat he removed me from the automobile like a stevedore hoisting a sack of grain. He took my place at the wheel, and disappeared down the drive to keep his tryst with the little woman, who presumably awaited him at some prearranged spot with the bags and baggage.

He left me in a condition which can best be described as befogged, bewildered, mystified, confused and perplexed. All I had got out of him was (a) that the debate had not been conducted in an atmosphere of the utmost cordiality, (b) that at its conclusion Florence had forbidden the banns and (c) that if I wanted further information Jeeves would supply it. A little more than the charmers got out of the deaf adder, but not much. I felt like a barrister, as it might be Ma McCorkadale, who has been baffled by an unsatisfactory witness.

However, he had spoken of Jeeves as a fount of information, so my first move on reaching the drawing-room and finding no one there was to put forefinger to bell button and push.

Seppings answered the summons. He and I have been buddies from boyhood – mine, of course, not his – and as a rule when we meet conversation flows like water, mainly on the subject of the weather and the state of his lumbago, but this was no time for idle chatter.

'Seppings,' I said, 'I want Jeeves. Where is he?'

'In the Servants' Hall, sir, comforting the parlourmaid.'

I took him to allude to the employee whose gong-work I had admired on my first evening, and, pressing though my business was, it seemed only humane to offer a word of sympathy for whatever her misfortunes might be.

'Had bad news, has she?'

'No, sir, she was struck by a turnip.'

'Where?'

'In the lower ribs, sir.'

'I mean where did this happen?'

'At the Town Hall, sir, in the later stages of the debate.'

I drew in the breath sharply. More and more I was beginning to realize that the meeting I had missed had been marked by passions which recalled the worst excesses of the French Revolution.

'I myself, sir, narrowly escaped being hit by a tomato. It whizzed past my ear.'

'You shock me profoundly, Seppings. I don't wonder you're pale and trembling.' And indeed he was, like a badly set blancmange. 'What caused all this turmoil?'

'Mr Winship's speech, sir.'

This surprised me. I could readily believe that any speech of Ginger's would be well below the mark set by Demosthenes, if that really was the fellow's name, but surely not so supremely lousy as to start his audience throwing eggs and vegetables; and I was about to institute further enquiries, when Seppings sidled to the door, saying that he would inform Mr Jeeves of my desire to confer with him. And in due season the hour produced the man, as the expression is.

'You wished to see me, sir?' he said.

'You can put it even stronger, Jeeves. I yearned to see you.'

'Indeed, sir?'

'Just now I met Ginger in the drive.'

'Yes, sir, he informed me that he was going there to await your return.'

'He tells me he is no longer betrothed to Miss Craye, being now affianced to Miss Glendennon. And when I asked him how this switch had come about, he said that you would explain.'

'I shall be glad to do so, sir. You wish a complete report?'

'That's right. Omit no detail, however slight.'

He was silent for a space. Marshalling his thoughts, no doubt. Then he got down to it.

'The importance attached by the electorate to the debate,' he began, 'was very evident. An audience of considerable size had assembled in the Town Hall. The Mayor and Corporation were there, together with the flower of Market Snodsbury's aristocracy and a rougher element in cloth caps and turtleneck sweaters who should never have been admitted.'

I had to rebuke him at this point.

'Bit snobbish, that, Jeeves, what? You are a little too inclined to judge people by their clothes. Turtleneck sweaters are royal raiment when they're worn for virtue's sake, and a cloth cap may hide an honest heart. Probably frightfully good chaps, if one had got to know them.'

'I would prefer not to know them, sir. It was they who subsequently threw eggs, potatoes, tomatoes and turnips.'

I had to concede that he had a point there.

'True,' I said. 'I was forgetting that. All right, Jeeves. Carry on.'