But have you ever noticed a rummy thing about life? I mean the way something always comes along to give it you in the neck at the very moment when you’re feeling most braced about things in general. No sooner had I dried the old limbs and shoved on the suiting and toddled into the sitting room than the blow fell. There was a letter from Aunt Agatha on the mantelpiece.

“Oh gosh!” I said when I’d read it.

“Sir?” said Jeeves. He was fooling about in the background on some job or other.

“It’s from my Aunt Agatha, Jeeves. Mrs. Gregson, you know.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t speak in that light, careless tone if you knew what was in it,” I said with a hollow, mirthless laugh. “The curse has come upon us, Jeeves. She wants me to go and join her at⁠—what’s the name of the dashed place?⁠—at Roville-sur-mer. Oh, hang it all!”