Honoria Glossop: I must say that I am surprised at finding this photograph of Bertie Wooster in your photo album, Madeline. Were you not engaged to him once? Is this a form of sentimental remembrance, my dear girl? If it is, I must caution you at once; any man who chooses Bobbie Wickham is a vapid airhead drawn only to physical beauty.
Madeline Bassett: Oh Honoria, do not be so blunt in your assessments. If my memory serves me right, is it not true also that you were his intended once? Aunt Agatha was determined to marry you both off. What a curious coincidence that we should both be here talking about him. Well, I have Spode now. Yes, I know he is much older and he is nearly seven feet tall. But he is so protective. I have grown used to that. What a lovely feeling it is! Oh! Hear me as I say this:
Like the west sea winds
The vicissitudes of love
A lady accepts
Honoria Glossop: Aunt Agatha made an earnest mistake and expected too much of her frivolous nephew. I…
Florence Craye: It seems all of us in this room have been engaged to Bertie at one point or another. The man could never commit till Roberta came along. I chose Bertie over Stilton at one point. I had such high hopes from him. However, his innate fondness for food, general silliness, and inability to read any real literature, brought him down considerably in my estimation. His juvenile taste in reading, I suppose, is the direct result of the company he keeps at that terrible club — The Drones.
Madeline Bassett:
Leave regrets behind
O Fair Maidens ye must soar
A garden beckons
Honoria Glossop: Another Haiku? Madeline, it is this gentle romanticism of women that gives these fools room to take liberties in relationships and commitments. As I was saying, intellectually and I dare say physically, I am his superior. I was on the verge of making a big mistake. If there was one redeeming quality about Bertie, it was that he pushed young Oswald, that ghoulish brother of mine, into the lake, and he did it to impress me. That day I believed that he had some steel in him. Naïve of me, I suppose. He folded like a napkin once Bobbie decided to place him in her handbag.
Florence Craye: It seems they all have their flaws. Stilton, I must admit with only a trace of embarrassment, is excessively possessive and envious. Once he pushed a fan of mine who was simply trying to get me to sign his copy of Spindrift, the best seller I wrote. Did you both read it? No? You must, especially you, Honoria, since you would certainly appreciate intellectual stimulation in the most ethical sense of the phenomenon. You must read it too, Madeline. You are too wrapped up in romance, my dear girl.
Madeline Bassett:
Dewdrops in the grass
Not the essence of my lands
Merely fallen tears
Honoria Glossop: Tears, what tears, my dear Madeline? What is this weakness you show? Do you regret that you dropped that goose in favour of a real man? I just remembered — did you not once make eyes at Gussie Fink-Nottle as well? That newt-loving lunatic. Just the company Bertie keeps. He once let his newts into father’s bathtub. Did Gussie not try to kiss you while pretending that there was something in your eye? I was there. Spode was onto him in a flash. Gussie and Bertie legged it as fast as possible. How Jeeves had a car waiting, I do not quite know, but he did. And Roberta, she extended a helping hand and got them both into the motor vehicle. They escaped, but I have never been prouder of old Roderick. Stiffy and I were fooling about with Stiffy’s new camera, and she actually caught the moment.
Madeline Bassett: There was something in my eye. Gussie was being a gentleman. Spode misunderstood…
Florence Craye: Honoria is right, Madeline. Now Gussie is married to Emerald Stoker. These men! He got himself an obscenely rich girl. Pauline Stoker’s sister. American too. As if there were a shortage of graceful, well-educated British women! I reiterate: it all comes down to a lack of study of the great texts of ethical theory, philosophy, and culture. I did highlight some of these pertinent issues in my seminal work, Spindrift. Jeeves, both Bertie’s right hand and his brain, admitted to me that he found it particularly instructive. Sadly, my intellectual capacity was never given its appropriate due by Stilton. He was unable to finish Spindrift. As I said, the Drones Club has its inimical effects. Poor boy — once we are married, I shall make sure that he develops critical thinking. He is rather fond of the word “Ho.” No, that will never do. Madeline, keep your romantic haikus, but improve them thus:
Manners maketh man
Ethics giveth him his wings
Soar my dear with me
Honoria Glossop: I have a good mind to challenge Bobbie Wickham to a contest of some sort. Just outside the Drones Club. Or at Brinkley Court. One cannot just obsess over appearance. Not that I have anything to prove to Bertie, mind you. Blair is my man now, and he is completely and utterly devoted. A writer who actually knows his stuff. He writes for Aunt Dahlia. Have you read his work, Florence? You haven’t read Blair Eggleston? Strange.
Madeline Bassett:
Gentle pixie heart
Nary a demand on him
Softly softly sings
Florence Craye: My dear Honoria, what is strange about my not having read Blair Eggleston? I am a serious long-form writer. Not the Rosie M. Banks kind, I mean. It is strange that you have not read Spindrift. It was the talk of London amidst the intellectual elite; a group I am sure you are already a part of.
Honoria Glossop: Did you just mock Blair, Florence? If you did, I must inform you that Blair writes perfectly entertaining prose. Not pages and pages of daft and pretentious verbiage. What?
Florence Craye: Ladies, you must excuse me; I have a book signing to attend to this afternoon. I would love to stay back and chat on the merits of prose that lifts a mind to heights it was not previously capable of, as opposed to that which merely serves as functional diversion. As Bertie would say, Honoria, Pip! Pip! Madeline, I shall visit you again.
Honoria Glossop: Madeline, Florence, I just remembered. I have to test the new racing vehicle at Brooklands. It is called a Sunbeam. We have to shatter social boundaries, you know. Not just look beautiful. I am already doing it.
Madeline Bassett: O Honoria, is that not so very dangerous?
Honoria Glossop: “I know of no better aim of life than that of perishing, in pursuit of the great and the impossible.” Perhaps you know of this quote, Florence? Well, it seems she just left. Toodles, sweet Madeline.
Madeline Bassett:
Farewell say I friends
This is but a brief goodbye
I dine alone now
THE END
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