All language subtitles for jeeves.and.wooster.s03e01.720p.bluray.x264-ingot

- We're sure we weren't followed?
- Quite sure, sir.

No sinister fellows with hats over their
eyes, lurking round the customs sheds?

Only the customs officers, sir.

Good Lord, Jeeves!
Look at the size of that boat.

The crew will be grateful
if you refer to it as a ship, sir.

Touchy about that, are they?

The vessel has, after all, a gross
displacement of 43,450 imperial tons, sir.

And the turbines allow 52,000 shaft
horsepower at the touch of a lever, sir.

Well, well, well!

Added to which, sir, she draws 38 foot
in the water, and is capable...

That's enough about
the technical side of things, Jeeves.

Very good, sir.

Your stateroom, sir.

Ah.

Thank you.

I say, Jeeves!

- This is something like, what?
- You approve, sir?

I should jolly well think I do approve,
yes.

- Just one thing. Where do I sleep?
- In here, sir.

Good Lord! I thought it was going to be
some sort of cupboard,

with you on the top bunk.

The poor people do travel
in such a style, I believe, sir.

Let us make sure we have not
overlooked any conceivable danger.

- Aunt Agatha can't trace us?
- I should have thought it unlikely, sir.

Unlikely isn't good enough when
she's brandishing Honoria Glossop,

demanding marriage with menaces.

If Mrs Gregson asks at the club,
she will be told that we are in Scotland.

I thought my last hour had come
when Honoria won me in that raffle.

Miss Glossop did appear to take the
terms of a game of hazard literally, sir.

Most girls are happy with a peck
on the cheek and a bottle of Bollinger.

But not Honoria. Oh, no!

Pardon me, sir, but this article appears
to have found its way into our luggage.

Rather snappy, eh? I bought it at Bates.

- I am surprised, sir.
- Oh, come off it, Jeeves.

I told them I was going to New York
and they came up with the goods.

No mention was made of a carnival
or fancy-dress occasion, sir?

Jeeves, it's a perfectly good hat. I shall
be the Beau Brummell of Broadway.

Of course, it is a great honour for me
to command such a magnificent ship.

- Ah, oui.
- Oh, you speak French, M. Wooster.

C'est extraordinaire!

Ces jours-ci, de trouver un Anglais
qui parle notre langue!

Ah, oui.

It's Bertie Wooster!

- Qu'est-ce que c'est que ça?
- Hello, hello!

- Bertie!
- Tuppy!

This is not the sort of behaviour
we allow.

- Who's the chap in the fancy dress?
- The captain. Speaks very good French.

Erm... Look, I'm terribly sorry, señor.

Quelle fromage and all that.

They love it when you speak the lingo.

- So, Bertie, what are you doing here?
- Well, likewise, old fizgig.

- Just business, you know.
- Business?

Don't say
you've actually found a job, Tuppy.

No, I'll tell you what it is.

You know how your Aunt Dahlia
is always on about me earning a living,

and being able to support Angela
after we get married?

Aunts are like that.
I was saying to Jeeves...

I met this fellow at the Bottled Waster,

and he was telling me
about this wonderful American car.

Well, I know quite a bit about cars,
so I went outside to take a look.

And he was right. An absolute corker.
Look.

- Very snazzy!
- It is, isn't it?

It's called a Spritz Polecat, apparently.
Just look at those chromium pipe things!

There were a couple of us there, Barmy,
Oofy Prosser, Bingo, all the usual crowd.

They were climbing all over him,
asking where they could get one.

And of course, the answer is, they can't.

And I thought to myself, "Hello."

To cut a long story short, I sent a cable
to the man who makes them.

I'm going to meet him in New York and
become the sole importer of the motors.

There's a fortune in it.

Don't you have to buy
before you can sell?

That's the clever bit. Barmy's given me
the money to get him one.

And he's agreed, well, sort of,

that I can use it to show prospective
customers and get some more orders.

So, you're just going to buy the one car?

I wish to see Mr Wooster.

- Who should I say...
- I'm Lady Malvern. This is my son.

What ho?

- Mr Wooster?
- That's the chap.

I was surprised to see you
on the purser's list.

Your aunt told me you were in Scotland.

Ah, well, yes,
this is meant to be a surprise.

Ah. Well, now, look,
this is my son, Wilmot.

What ho, Wilmot.

- Hello.
- I think you are going to be great chums.

Oh, rather.

I shall be busy on my book
for most of the trip,

so I shall rely on you
to keep Wilmot out of mischief.

He's a strict vegetarian and a teetotaller,
and is devoted to reading.

Give him a nice book
and he'll be quite contented.

Thank you so much.

Erm... Do you mind if I...?

No, of course.

That's it. From the hips, you see.

Look this way. Now, this time...

Oh!

Oh, well done!

That was wonderful.

You've heard of limpets, Jeeves?

The gastropod mollusc of the genus
Patella, noted for adhering to rocks, sir?

This blasted Pershore seems to be noted
for adhering to Woosters.

Just as I'm about to click
with some toothsome filly,

up pops Motty to enliven proceedings
like a wet weekend in Chalfont St Giles.

Perhaps it is for the best, sir. Shipboard
romances are notoriously transient.

I don't need Motty to protect me from
heartbreak. Let me learn from mistakes.

- I am willing to sacrifice myself.
- A most commendable attitude, sir.

Oh, my Lord! You haven't met
Wilmot Pershore, have you?

Didn't his mother spend the weekend
in Rio and wrote "Whither Brazil"?

That's the one.

- What ho, Motty.
- Bertie.

- Have you met Tuppy Glossop?
- What ho, Tuppy.

- Mother doesn't like me saying that.
- What?

What ho.
She doesn't like me whistling, either.

- Really?
- Or putting my hands in my pockets.

I say, Motty,
isn't it way past your bedtime?

Yes. I know. I was just going now.

Pip pip.

- He's also a teetotaller.
- Good Lord!

Still, one more day
and he'll be off my hands.

There, Jeeves. The land of the free
and the home of the brave!

Indeed, sir.
Also, the land of Prohibition, sir.

You mean not being allowed
to get a snootful?

Indeed, sir. Although I'm given to
understand that subterfuges are used

which ensure that ardent spirits
are more readily available than hitherto.

- She's a fair size, Jeeves.
- Indeed, sir.

Puts one in mind of Honoria in that white
dress she used to wear at hunt balls.

The similarity is a striking one, sir.

Now, Jeeves, why do you think
they built all these tall buildings?

Well, sir, it was partly because of
the restricted size of Manhattan lsland,

and partly because
the island is solid granite,

and therefore capable
of supporting such structures.

Nothing to do with
having got the plans sideways?

- No, sir.
- That's what Barmy told me.

You'll pardon me for saying so, sir,

but Mr Fotheringay Phipps is not noted
for his architectural expertise.

True, Jeeves.

Apartment 51, please.

Mr Wooster is the new tenant there,
and I am his manservant, Jeeves.

Apartment 51 it is.
You gentlemen got some visitors.

The natives are friendly.
A welcoming party already.

- You his what?
- His manservant.

His gentleman's personal gentleman.

His valet.

What kind of dough
you get for a job like that?

I am not at liberty to divulge that
information. The remuneration is ample.

Thank you.

Remuneration? Divulge?

Mm hmm!

Where on earth have you been,
Mr Wooster?

We disembarked an hour and a half ago.

We had to fetch the key from the agent's.

It really is most inconvenient.
I've got a train to catch.

- A train?
- Now, where will Wilmot sleep?

- Sleep?
- Ah.

Oh, no. South-facing.

Wilmot can't have too much sun.

- Wh-what do you mean, exactly? Sleep?
- I'm staying here.

No, you're not.
Why can't you go with your mother?

- I get fearfully sick on trains.
- Well, a hotel?

Oh, no, no. Wilmot is essentially
a homebird. Aren't you, my darling?

- Yes, Mother.
- Yes, but not my home.

Your Aunt Agatha was most anxious
to get in touch with you.

No!

There was talk of a young girl
dreadfully wronged.

Wronged? No, all that happened was...

Hitherto, Wilmot has been sheltered
from the temptations of a great city.

It's such a relief to know that
he'll be safe with you, Mr Wooster.

I shall rely on you.

Now, I simply must go. It is essential
that I catch the 11 o'clock train.

I have to visit Sing Sing.
I'm interested in prison conditions.

And then I'm going to work my way
across to the West coast,

visiting points of interest on my journey.

- It'll be no more than two weeks.
- Two weeks?

Two weeks will be ample.

"America From Within".
Isn't that a grand title, Mr Wooster?

- Well, yes...
- You're going to be a good boy, Wilmot.

- Yes, Mother.
- And remember.

I shall have to rely on you for information
about New York, so take notes.

It's such a help. Goodbye, my darling.

Goodbye, Mr Wooster.

So, I'm left in charge of the pill.

- Pill?
- Pershore. The excrescence Wilmot.

- Gin and tonic or Scotch and soda?
- Scotch, I think.

This Prohibition is not at all a bad thing.
I never liked afternoon tea before.

- Oh, do buck up, Tuppy.
- Well, I'm nervous.

You'd be nervous
if you had to meet a stranger,

and persuade him
you were an expert on cars.

I thought you were an expert on cars.

Yes, well, I know a fair bit.
Look, ask me another question.

You're not going to learn from
"Boy's Book Of The Automobile".

It's the only thing I could find.
Go on, Bertie.

"Automobiles get thirsty,
just like you and me.

"What do most automobiles
most like to drink?"

- I don't understand that.
- Petrol, you fathead!

Oh, yes, of course!

Yes, well, I hate those trick questions.

Mr Stoker's not going to ask me
trick questions.

Stoker?
Not J Washburn Stoker, by any chance?

Yes, that's the chap. Do you know him?

I was engaged to his daughter.

Really? What happened?

Stoker. If there's one thing in this life I
do not relish, it's running into Stoker again.

Let's have another question.

Roar!

Roar, o blind city!

Roar!

Roar, my... half... formed...

Wait a minute. Don't I know you?

Yes. It's...

Bertie Wooster.
You're Rocky Todd, the poet.

- We met at Buffy Bingham's birthday.
- Buffy Bingham?

Not to be confused with Beattie,
his brother.

Beattie wears his collar back to front.
Unlike Buffy. Anything but.

I remember. We went
to that really great club of yours.

Tuppy Glossop. You met him there, too.

I was the one with the firework in my hat.

Oh, sure. Tuppy, sure! Hey, this is great.

- I thought you never came to New York.
- First time in six months.

I just came to visit my publisher.

- Why don't we get some dinner?
- Rather.

Great idea.

Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Din.

Din of the city.

City without pity.

This is good. This is good.

- What ho!
- Good morning, sir.

- Out on the town?
- Scarcely, sir.

Lord Pershore ran out of money, sir,

and the establishment responsible
was holding him hostage for the bill.

What on earth's the matter with him?
Has he had some sort of dashed fit?

- Someone's been feeding him meat.
- Sir?

He's vegetarian, probably been digging
into a steak. Fetch a doctor.

I hardly think that will be necessary, sir.

Oh, Jeeves, you don't think
he's under the sauce, do you?

I fear so, sir.

Good Lord, Jeeves!
What would his mother say?

One does not like to contemplate it, sir.

Beep beep!

How are you doing, Mr Glossop?

Oh. Hello, there.

- Are you Mr Stoker?
- I sure am.

So, you want to sell my little
Spritz Polecat in England, do you?

Well, yes. Well, what I'd like to do...

My daughter's gonna marry
an Englishman.

- I don't suppose you know him?
- No, I don't suppose I do.

His name's Lord Chuffnell,
of Chufnell Regis.

Yes, well, I do know Chuffie.

Now... erm... I'm sure you've noticed,
Mr Stoker,

but they've put your steering wheel
on the wrong side.

Now, I'll tell you right off, Mr Glossop,

I don't intend to make a special model
with a right-hand drive.

Right-hand drive?

I got my production line running
and I don't intend to disrupt it.

Well, until you start to sell
a thousand cars a week.

- Right-hand drive?
- Why do you keep saying that?

Oh, nothing, nothing.
Just mulling it over, you know.

You want the steering wheel
and the gas pedal and the brake

on the right-hand side of the car?

Oh!

Oh, I see!

Daddy, I was just on my way
to Bloomingdales.

Oh, hello, honey. This is Mr Glossop.
He's... He's English.

This is my daughter, Pauline,
that I was telling you about.

How do you do, Mr Glossop?

Are you over here on business?

- Ah! What ho, Bertie!
- Tuppy, old fruit.

- How did it go with old man Stoker?
- Pretty well.

I was fairly impressive,
though I do say so myself.

I say, Bertie,
what a wonderful girl she is!

- Who is?
- Pauline Stoker, of course.

She's just the sort of girl
I ought to marry, you know.

- She's engaged to Chuffy Chuffnell.
- Yes, she mentioned that.

I don't think it's... Ooof!
No, I don't think it's serious.

One cannot ignore the fact
that the girl is engaged to a chum.

- And what's more, a fellow Drone.
- Ha! Can't one just?

And while we're at it,
you're engaged to my cousin Angela.

I'm disappointed in you, Wooster.

A gentleman
would not have mentioned that.

Ah, Jeeves!
Any sign of young Motty yet?

Lord Pershore is awake, sir,
and in good spirits.

- Is he, by Jove?
- I am preparing a luncheon, sir.

Lord Pershore expressed a desire
for sustenance not entirely satisfied

by porridge, scrambled eggs, five
rashers of bacon, toast and marmalade.

Good Lord! The man must have
the constitution of a yak.

Precisely the ruminant I had in mind, sir.

Come in.

- What ho, Motty.
- What ho, Bertie.

You ate something last night
that disagreed with you, did you?

No. Nothing of the kind.

I drank too much. Much too much.

Lots and lots too much.

What's more, I'm going to do it again.
I'm going to do it every night.

Yes... The thing is, Motty, I'm sort of
responsible for you, so to speak.

If you carry on, I'm liable to end up
in the soup with your mother.

I can't help your troubles, old thing.

This is the first time I've had the chance
to yield to the temptations of a great city.

Well, yes, but, Motty...

All my bally life I've been cooped up

in the ancestral home
in Much Middlefold in Shropshire.

Until you've been cooped up
in Much Middlefold in Shropshire,

you don't know what cooping is.

This is my only chance
to assemble a disreputable past.

And I'm going to take it!

He's chucked in his well-spent boyhood,
and got it right up his nose.

Often the way, sir, when the shackles
of familial piety have been loosened.

I shall have to stick with him,
try and keep the gaiety under control.

Very good, sir.
Lord Pershore is dressing now, sir.

He seems anxious to get out,
as he puts it, "on the tiles".

- Oh, good grief, Jeeves. Hat, then.
- Very good, sir.

No, Jeeves, my American hat.

Very good, sir.

There. Doesn't look at all bad, does it?

A violin case would complete the effect
very creditably, sir.

We shall say no more about it.
I think the hat looks doggy.

You're not convinced.
We'll agree to differ.

What has Lord Pershore got planned?

Whaddya want?

Sure is late to be coming home, sir.

Ah, yes, well, you know how it is.

No, sir, I don't, Mr Wooster.
Praise be, I don't.

My friend is suffering from
an unfortunate attack of food poisoning.

Did I say anything, sir?

Jeeves, this is getting a bit thick.

- Indeed, sir.
- I can't take much more of this, Jeeves.

It is hard, sir.

- I can hear music, Jeeves.
- Of a kind, sir.

Lord Pershore informed me that
he brought home a few friends last night.

- Jeeves, there's a dog in there.
- That will be Rollo, sir.

His Lordship purchased the animal
from a Norwegian seaman.

He tried to bite me.

In time, the creature will learn
to distinguish your peculiar scent, sir.

Peculiar scent?

I do not intend to hang about
in my bedroom while life slips by,

in the hope that some dratted animal
decides I smell all right.

Very good, sir.

Jeeves, I have decided.
I'm going away by the next train.

- You remember Mr Todd, Jeeves?
- No, sir.

- You do, Jeeves.
- Very good, sir.

He's a poet. I met him again
the other night with Tuppy.

He invited me to stay with him
at Long lsland.

I'm going to get some peace and quiet
if it's the last thing I do.

So you'd better send him a telegram,

warning him to put the fatted calf
on gas mark six.

Very good, sir. Do you wish me
to accompany you, sir?

I think not. You stay behind to ensure
Motty doesn't burn the homestead.

As you wish, sir.

So, how do you like my little
country estate here, Mr Glossop?

Little? I wouldn't call it little.
I mean, well, you've got everything.

A swimming pool, a tennis court, stables.

Well, you know,
we like to keep ourselves busy.

I think it's about time we get down

to the nuts and bolts
of your little business venture.

Not so little, Daddy, if Hildebrand's going
to be the sole importer of the Polecat.

Maybe, and maybe not.

What size order were you thinking of,
as of here and now, Hildebrand?

Size of order? Ah... Erm... Well...

Um...

Hildebrand obviously hasn't come
all this way just to buy one or two cars.

Sure, sure, sure.

- How many?
- Well, obviously not just... erm...

Well... They come cheaper by the dozen,
I suppose? Like eggs.

Well, obviously, the more cars you buy,
the better deal you get.

Well, let's start off with... four.

Four?

Four dozen, Daddy.

- Ah.
- Quite.

Quite.

Four dozen.

- Where's the house?
- Up the track there.

Oh. Is it far?

Just at the end of the track. Good night.

Who's there?

- Do you know what time it is?
- Supper time.

- Twenty past eight.
- Oh, my God!

This is a bit awkward.
I sent you a telegram.

It was still in your mailbox.

Hang on.

- Who is that?
- Bertie Wooster.

Bertie! Ho ho! Hey, how you doing?

Stay a week, stay a month, have a drink!

I'll have a drink,
but I can only stay a week.

- Peace and quiet, that's what I crave.
- Fine, that's great. Come on in.

How nice to see you.

♪ Everybody loves my baby

♪ But my baby don't love nobody but me

♪ Nobody but me ♪

♪ Everybody wants my baby

♪ But my baby don't want nobody but me

♪ That's plain to see ♪

Jeeves, we're just going out for a while.

- OK?
- Very good, my lord.

Operator.

Get me the police.

- What ho, Rocky.
- Oh, hi, Bertie. Enjoying yourself?

Oh, fantastic. Yes.

- Sure, nice and quiet around here.
- Wonderful.

Wonderful.

So, Rocky, what does one do
for excitement around here?

Excitement?

You ought to be here in the winter.

We get pretty high winds around here
in the winter.

Blowing the snow off the trees,
blowing the...

Oh, I don't know, what all.

Good Lord!

- Bertie!
- Tuppy! What are you doing here?

I rang your flat.
Jeeves told me you were here.

I'm staying at the Stokers' place,
up the road. Bertie, I need your help.

Four dozen? What, 48?

What else could I do?
Pauline was watching.

- With her eyes shining.
- What have her eyes got to do with it?

I couldn't just order one car.
I'd look such a fool.

You'll look a bigger fool when you have
to tell Stoker you don't want 47 of them.

But I can't, Bertie. It's too late.

- Too late? Why?
- I'll tell you later.

Yes, yes, this'll do, driver. Thank you.

The problem is, Bertie,
I gave Stoker a cheque.

- How much for?
- Get down. Get down.

Oh!
Pauline! Isn't she wonderful, Bertie?

How much was the cheque for, Tuppy?

$57,000.

$57,000?

That's about £10,000.

Yes, I know that. Ten thousand,
two hundred and three pounds,

fourteen shillings and four pence.

- Get down, get down.
- I'm not a dratted mole, you know.

I know, but you can see
the house from here.

Very nice.

That's my room, second floor, one, two,
three... Yes, three along from the left.

Why don't you put an X underneath it?

We're all going to be out at dinner
this evening, so the house will be empty.

If you think I'm going to risk my neck
breaking in to Stoker's house

to steal back your dratted cheque,

then you are suffering from
a dramatic form of brain fever.

The last time I had contact with Stoker,

he was going to kick my trousers
up through my hat.

And then I was only engaged
to his daughter.

Bertie, it couldn't be simpler.

Now, I'll keep my window open.
I know how to turn off the burglar alarm.

And it's the servants' night off.

Ha ha! Couldn't be simpler.

Oh! I forgot my hat.

Forgot my hat.

Ha ha!

Hat. Got the hat.

Darn it, I forgot to turn on
the burglar alarm.

Oh, Daddy, you didn't.

- We'd better go back.
- We can't. We're late already.

There aren't any burglars in West Neck.

- Keep going.
- Yes, ma'am.

Hey!

Oh, lor.

Argh!

It's time somebody started living right.

Cos somebody is starting to look
a little worn, if you know what I mean.

- Jeeves?
- Good morning, sir.

- Where's that blasted dog? Tied up?
- The animal is no longer here, sir.

Lord Pershore gave him to the porter,
who sold him.

His Lordship took a prejudice
against the beast

on account of having been bitten
in the calf of the leg, sir.

Oh, excellent. Excellent, Jeeves.
Perhaps I misjudged the little fellow.

- Is Lord Pershore in?
- No, sir.

Are you expecting him for lunch?

- No, sir.
- Where is he?

In prison, sir.

Prison?

He assaulted a constable

who was attempting to arrest him
for disorderly behaviour, sir.

But, Jeeves, this is frightful.
What is Lady Malvern going to say?

I fancy his "bit of time"
will have run out by then, sir.

Yes, but supposing it hasn't?

In that event, sir,
it may be judicious to prevaricate,

if I might make the suggestion, sir.

I should inform Her Ladyship that His
Lordship has left for a visit to Boston.

Boston is a very respectable centre, sir.

- Jeeves, you may have hit it.
- Thank you, sir.

This is perhaps the best thing
that could have happened.

- I don't see that.
- Had this immuration not intervened,

it is likely His Lordship
would have ended up in a sanatorium.

You're probably right.

The last time I saw him, he looked steps
away from the happy tablet academy.

Now, Jeeves, Mr Glossop has got into
a spot of bother with the Stokers.

In love with the daughter,
in debt to the dad.

Mr Glossop was kind enough to put me
in the picture when he telephoned.

- Did he ask for your advice, Jeeves?
- Not precisely, sir.

He expressed an eager desire
to lay hands upon you, sir.

- Did he, by George?
- That was the way he expressed himself.

I wouldn't mind laying hands on him.
He didn't turn the blasted alarm off.

He did mention that he would be
lunching at Oscar's Delmonico, sir.

Perhaps you might find him there.

Hmm.

So there you are, you blighter!

Me, a blighter? You're the blighter.
You didn't get that blasted cheque.

- You didn't turn the blasted alarm off.
- I did!

Stoker forgot to turn it on, so it was off.

- So when I turned it off, I turned it on.
- What?

I thought Stoker had turned it on,
but he hadn't. He'd turned it off.

Here's Stoker.

What am I going to do, Bertie?
If he cashes that cheque, I'm...

Bertie?

- Hello, Hildebrand.
- Hello, Pauline. Mr Stoker.

Do sit down.

Would you care for a dry Martini
before we order lunch?

- Mr Stoker?
- I'll have a bourbon and branch water.

Waiter, the gentleman would like a...
What's it called?

Oh, yes. A pot of coffee.

Well, Mr Glossop, I suppose this lunch
is to celebrate our little business deal.

Well, in a sense, yes.

- How dare you?
- What?

What's the matter, Pauline?

- It's all right, Daddy.
- Ah.

Yes, I'll start shipping your
first six cars in about ten days.

Well, that would be wonderful,
but... erm...

- Mr Glossop!
- What is it?

Waiter! Waiter!

What the hell is going on here?
And who the blazes is that?

You!

- Can't you keep your table in order?
- Push off.

- Waiter, why do you let poor folks in?
- Poor?

- Bertie Wooster. Well, well, well!
- Well, well, well, yourself, old fruit.

Glossop, what was that man doing
under our table?

- Don't be silly. It's Bertie Wooster.
- I know perfectly well who it is.

I'm not likely to forget
your ill-judged engagement to him.

What ho, Mr Stoker.
Here we are again, what.

Just what were you doing
under our table?

- Well, I was just looking for a spoon.
- Bertie's an old chum.

- An old chum?
- Yes.

Well, let me tell you something,
Mr Glossop.

I do not intend to be in business

with anybody
who is an old chum of Mr Wooster.

That's not fair. It's not Hildebrand's
fault that he knows Bertie.

I'm not in the business of being fair,
Pauline.

I am in the business of making money,

and protecting my family's good name.

Oh. He's tearing paper now.

Your cheque, Mr Glossop.

And if you came to me on bended knees,

and begged me to accept another one,
I would spurn you. You got that?

Spurn you! Come on, Pauline.

Well, that got rid of him.

Bye, Bertie.

There you are, old fizgig.

As I've just saved you £10,200,
you can treat me to a bit of lunch.

She's gone, Bertie.
The only woman I've loved.

- Yes, got a useful right hook.
- I'll never see her again.

The bouillabaisse is rather good here,
I've heard.

They don't do any soft-shell crab,
do they?

Keep it moving.

Warden, what measures would you take
if one of these creatures tried to escape?

The men have orders to shoot first
and ask questions later, Lady Malvern.

Very proper. I would think...

Pick that up.

Keep movin'.

Wilmot!

Come on, limey, get moving.

Jeeves!

Jeeves?

Ah. Lady Malvern.

Well, well, well.

- So, you're back.
- Yes, I'm back.

- Had a pleasant trip?
- Oh, extremely, thank you.

I do hope Wilmot wasn't in your way.

Oh, rather not, no, no. Great pals.

We hit it off splendidly.
Saw all the sights, you know. Er...

Museum of Art in the morning and lunch
at some nice, quiet vegetarian place.

In the afternoon,
toddle along to some concert or other.

- And then home for an early dinner.
- Really?

Yes. And then we'd normally play
dominoes after dinner.

And then early to bed
for a refreshing sleep.

We had a great time. I was only sorry
when he went away to Boston.

Oh, Wilmot is in Boston, is he?

Yes. He just upped one morning
and said, "I'm going to Boston."

And then, well, sort of went to Boston.
Extraordinary thing.

Still, very respectable sort of place,
Boston.

Not likely to come to any harm in Boston.

How do you account, Mr Wooster,
for the fact

that when I went to Blackwells lsland
Prison to collect material for my book,

I saw poor, dear Wilmot there,

dressed in a striped suit, walking the
exercise yard with a pack of criminals?

Really?

So, this is how you've been looking after
my poor, dear boy, Mr Wooster.

I left him in your charge, thinking that I
could rely on you to shield him from evil.

- And you led him astray.
- Well, no...

You have deliberately...

- Mother!
- Wilmot.

Good heavens.

I've just been to... erm...

Um... Buffalo. No... Baltimore.

Hang on. Jeeves,
where have I just been? Begins with a B.

- Prison, sir.
- That's right.

No!

Perhaps I could explain, Your Ladyship.

You?

When Mr Wooster
informed Your Ladyship

that His Lordship was in Boston,

he was relying on the version I had given
him of His Lordship's movements.

Mr Wooster was visiting a friend
in the country,

and knew nothing of the matter
until Your Ladyship explained it.

What?

As he had grown so attached
to His Lordship,

and taken such pains to look after him,

it might have been hard
to persuade Mr Wooster

that your son went to prison voluntarily
and from the best motives.

But Your Ladyship, knowing him better,
will readily understand.

Wilmot? You went to prison voluntarily?

Yes. Yes!

His Lordship was frequently depressed

at how little he was doing to help collect
material for Your Ladyship's book.

- I was. I was, yes!
- I find that very hard to believe.

But surely,
it is more reasonable to suppose

that a gentleman
of Lord Pershore's character

would go to prison of his own volition.

I did. I did.
I went of my own... what he said.

Rather than by committing
some breach of the law,

which would necessitate arrest.

I didn't, I didn't. Look, I can prove it.

I've got all the notes I made in prison
for the book.

You did all this?
How could I have doubted you?

Look, Mr Wooster, look.
Look what he's done.

Mr Wooster, I owe you an apology.

I have done you a great injustice.

I should have had more faith
in dear Wilmot's fine and pure spirit.

Absolutely.

Come along, my darling.

Goodbye, Mr Wooster, and thank you.

Jeeves, you are a life-saver.

Thank you, sir.

You made sure
that the Stokers met me with Tuppy.

It did seem the surest way of securing
the return of Mr Glossop's cheque, sir.

Now, Jeeves, that Al Capone hat of mine.

Yes, sir?

Get rid of it, would you?
Burn it or something?

I've already taken the liberty
of disposing of it, sir.

Going down.