“Let me explain,” I said. “Sippy asked me to come here.”

“What do you mean?”

“He couldn’t come himself, because he was jugged for biffing a cop on Boat Race Night.”

Well, it wasn’t easy to make them get the hang of the story, and even when I’d done it, it didn’t seem to make them any chummier towards me. A certain coldness about expresses it, and when dinner was announced I counted myself out and pushed off rapidly to my room. I could have done with a bit of dinner, but the atmosphere didn’t seem just right.

“Jeeves,” I said, having shot in and pressed the bell, “we’re sunk.”

“Sir?”

“Hell’s foundations are quivering and the game is up.”

He listened attentively.