"Oh I say!" Bertie had a discomforting notion that he should have something more perspicuous to say at this point, but he had never been the one for the perfect bon mot, that was Jeeves' forte, what?

Dash it all, it was deucedly outside the bounds of reason to expect the perfect, sweetly tempered phrase to be plucked from his flabbergasted noggin when this... what what what? - was pointing some sort of domestic thingumybob on a stick at him. The whatwhatwhat itself put Bertie appallingly in mind of an unspeakably overlaquered, perambulating pepperpot, and he could just see Jeeves eyeing it with that disapproving dead fish eye look of his before showing it the door.

That is, if even Jeeves could find the door in this bally frightful tangle of corridors they'd so blithely swanned into and that Bertie would be more than happy, to the tiptop of his being, to swan right back out again.

And to top off the whole gruesome catastrophe, the whatwhatwhat was blessed a cacophonous honk that made Honoria Glossop's glass-shattering tones like the song of a well-contented nightingale.

"EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"

Now that was ungentlemanly to a fault, though Bertie had to concede, even as he scarpered down yet another of the blasted corridors with it whizzing-rumbling-honking and hot on his heels... could a whatwhatwhat be a gentleman at all?

If he ever found his way out of this frightful spot, he'd have to ask Jeeves.