The inimitable Jeeves

passage heavily marked in pencil caught my eye. And directly I read it I saw that it was all to the mustard and was going to help me in my business.
    This was the passage:
‘What can prevail’ - Millicent’s eyes flashed as she faced the stern old man - ‘What can prevail against a pure and all-consuming love? Neither principalities nor powers, my lord, nor all the puny prohibitions of guardians and parents. I love your son, Lord Mindermere, and nothing can keep us apart. Since time first began this love of ours was fated, and who are you to put yourself against the decrees of Fate?’
The earl looked at her keenly from beneath his bushy eyebrows.
‘Humph!’ he said.
    Before I had time to refresh my memory as to what Millicent’s come-back had been to that remark, the door opened and old Bittle-sham rolled in. All over me, as usual.
    ‘My dear Mr Wooster, this is an unexpected pleasure. Pray take a seat. What can I do for you?’
    ‘Well, the fact is, I’m more or less in the capacity of a jolly old ambassador at the moment. Representing young Bingo, you know.’
    His geniality sagged a trifle, I thought, but he didn’t heave me out, so I pushed on.
    ‘The way I always look at it,’ I said, ‘is that it’s dashed difficult for anything to prevail against what you might call a pure and all-consuming love. I mean, can it be done? I doubt it.’
    My eyes didn’t exactly flash as I faced the stern old man, but I sort of waggled my eyebrows. He puffed a bit and looked doubtful.
    ‘We discussed this matter at our last meeting, Mr Wooster. And on that occasion -‘
    ‘Yes. But there have been developments, as it were, since then. The fact of the matter is,’ I said, coming to the point, ‘this morning young Bingo went and jumped off the dock.’
    ‘Good heavens!’ He jerked himself to his feet with his mouth open. ‘Why? Where? Which dock?’
    I saw that he wasn’t quite on.
    ‘I was speaking metaphorically,’ I explained, ‘if that’s the word I want. I mean he got married.’
    ‘Married!’
    ‘Absolutely hitched up. I hope you aren’t ratty about it, what? Young blood, you know. Two loving hearts, and all that.’
    He panted in a rather overwrought way.
    ‘I am greatly disturbed by your news. I - I consider that I have been - er - defied. Yes, defied.’
    ‘But who are you to pit yourself against the decrees of Fate?’ I said, taking a look at the prompt book out of the corner of my eye.
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘You see, this love of theirs was fated. Since time began, you know.’
    I’m bound to admit that if he’d said ‘Humph!’ at this juncture, he would have had me stymied. Luckily it didn’t occur to him. There was a silence, during which he appeared to brood a bit. Then his eye fell on the book and he gave a sort of start.
    ‘Why, bless my soul, Mr Wooster, you have been quoting!’
    ‘More or less.’
    ‘I thought your words sounded familiar.’ His whole appearance changed and he gave a sort of gurgling chuckle. ‘Dear me, dear me, you know my weak spot!’ He picked up the book and buried himself in it for quite a while. I began to think he had forgotten I was there. After a bit, however, he put it down again, and wiped his eyes. ‘Ah, well!’ he said.
    I shuffled my feet and hoped for the best.
    ‘Ah, well,’ he said again. ‘I must not be like Lord Windermere, must I, Mr Wooster? Tell me, did you draw that haughty old man from a living model?’
    ‘Oh, no! Just thought of him and bunged him down, you know.’
    ‘Genius!’ murmured old Bittlesham. ‘Genius! Well, Mr Wooster, you have won me over. Who, as you say, am I to put myself against the decrees of Fate? I will write to Richard tonight and inform him of my consent to his marriage.’
    ‘You can slip him the glad news in person,’ I said. ‘He’s waiting downstairs, with wife complete. I’ll pop down and send them up. Cheerio, and thanks very much. Bingo will be most awfully bucked.’
    I shot out and went downstairs. Bingo and Mrs were sitting on a couple of chairs like patients in a dentist’s waiting-room.
    ‘Well?’ said Bingo eagerly.
    ‘All over except the hand-clasping,’ I replied, slapping the old crumpet on the back. ‘Charge up and get matey. Toodle-oo, old things. You know where to find me, if wanted. A thousand congratulations, and all that sort of rot.’
    And I pipped, not wishing to be fawned upon.

    You never can tell in this world. If ever I felt that something attempted, something done