WODEHOUSE, P. G. - "Samo naprijed, Jeeves!" (Right Ho, Jeeves)

Chapter 1
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Yes, most decidedly, Cannes was the point d'appui.

Right ho, then. Let me marshal my facts.

I went to Cannes – leaving Jeeves behind, he having intimated that he did not wish to miss Ascot – round about the beginning of June. With me travelled my Aunt Dahlia and her daughter Angela. Tuppy Glossop, Angela's betrothed, was to have been of the party, but at the last moment couldn't get away. Uncle Tom, Aunt Dahlia's husband, remained at home, because he can't stick the South of France at any price.
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Da, odlučno, u Cannesu je točka d'appui.

Pravo ho, onda. Dopustite mi maršala moje činjenice.

Otišao sam u Cannesu - ostavljajući iza Jeeves, on je nakon što je natuknuo da je on nije želio propustiti Ascot - Okrugli o početku lipnja. Sa mnom putuje moj teta Dahlia i njezina kći Angela. Tuppy Glossop, Angelina zaručnik, bio je da su te stranke, ali u posljednji trenutak nije mogao pobjeći. Ujak Tom, tete Dahlia suprug, ostao je kod kuće, jer on ne može staviti na jugu Francuske po svaku cijenu.
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Da, sasvim sigurno, Cannes je bio point d'appui. (*)

(*) - polazna točka

Pa, da krenemo. Dozvolite mi prvo da poslažem činjenice.

Otišao sam u Cannes - ostavljajući Jeevesa kod kuće, nakon što je on natuknuo da ne želi propustiti Ascot - negdje početkom juna.

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So there you have the layout – Aunt Dahlia, Cousin Angela and self off to Cannes round about the beginning of June.

All pretty clear so far, what?

We stayed at Cannes about two months, and except for the fact that Aunt Dahlia lost her shirt at baccarat and Angela nearly got inhaled by a shark while aquaplaning, a pleasant time was had by all.

On July the twenty-fifth, looking bronzed and fit, I accompanied aunt and child back to London. At seven p.m. on July the twenty-sixth we alighted at Victoria. And at seven-twenty or thereabouts we parted with mutual expressions of esteem – they to shove off in Aunt Dahlia's car to Brinkley Court, her place in Worcestershire, where they were expecting to entertain Tuppy in a day or two; I to go to the flat, drop my luggage, clean up a bit, and put on the soup and fish preparatory to pushing round to the Drones for a bite of dinner.

And it was while I was at the flat, towelling the torso after a much-needed rinse, that Jeeves, as we chatted of this and that – picking up the threads, as it were – suddenly brought the name of Gussie Fink-Nottle into the conversation.

As I recall it, the dialogue ran something as follows:

SELF: Well, Jeeves, here we are, what?

JEEVES: Yes, sir.

SELF: I mean to say, home again.

JEEVES: Precisely, sir.

SELF: Seems ages since I went away.

JEEVES: Yes, sir.

SELF: Have a good time at Ascot?

JEEVES: Most agreeable, sir.

SELF: Win anything?

JEEVES: Quite a satisfactory sum, thank you, sir.

SELF: Good. Well, Jeeves, what news on the Rialto? Anybody been phoning or calling or anything during my abs.?

JEEVES: Mr. Fink-Nottle, sir, has been a frequent caller.

I stared. Indeed, it would not be too much to say that I gaped.

"Mr. Fink-Nottle?"

"Yes, sir."

"You don't mean Mr. Fink-Nottle?"

"Yes, sir."

"But Mr. Fink-Nottle's not in London?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I'm blowed."