The creator of the inimitable Jeeves and Wooster, the frantic Psmith, and the eccentric Mulliners has matured. Now we have before us a completely different Woodhouse. He is just as funny, just as ironic. His stories are just as funny. But in Wodehouse's later stories there is no longer the grotesque. These are mature works of an experienced writer, a deep expert in human psychology. And the author laughs not so much at the absurd situations in which the heroes find themselves, but at the comedy of the very time in which they happened to live...

“... “Jeeves,” I said, “my soul is burdened with vague forebodings.” Really, sir? – Yes. I would like to know what's going on there.” “I'm afraid I don't quite catch your point, sir.” “But I should!” After all, I told you word for word my conversation with Aunt Dahlia, and each of these words should have fallen under your hat. Let me try to refresh your memory: we chatted about this and that, and in conclusion she said that she intended to ask me for one more trifle, but when I asked what, she threw me off the scent... is that what they call it? “Yes, sir.” Well, she threw me off the scent by dropping it so casually: “Oh, just a simple little favor for my beloved aunt!” How would you interpret these words? “Apparently, Mrs. Travers wants you to do something for her, sir.” “That is so, but what exactly is the main question!” You remember how things ended before, if the weaker sex asked me for something? Especially Aunt Dahlia. Have you forgotten that story with Sir Watkyn Basset and the silver creamer in the shape of a cow? - No, sir. - If not for your intervention, Bertram Wooster would have served time in the local jail. Who can guarantee that this little thing of hers will not plunge me into the same abyss of danger?..."