The Time Machine of Thorrocks Manor - 1

“ ‘It is with great regret that we have to report the continued existence of Humphrey Warburton inexcusable. Once known as Humph, to his friends, and War to his enemies, he is now known only as War since there are no longer any of the former.’ .... hmm, I say, that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think, Gargers?”
“It does seem somewhat unmeasured, sir.”
“You know, I think, ever since Tiggy Thistethwaite got the Obits Ed job - ... well, it’s all gone to his head kind of a thing. I think young Tiggy and I need to have a bit of a serious chinwag.”
“That would seem not inappropriate, sir.”
“I’ve a good mind straight after brekkers to telephone the Times and have a serious man-to-man with him.”
“Might I recommend, sir, that a face-to-fac e encounter might be the more advisable, given that Mr Thistlethwaite is nearly ninety and unlikely to haver mastered the art of speaking on the telephone given the relative recency of its introduction into society.”
“Yes, you’re probably right – as always, hm – but Tiggers can be a bit, well, you know, ‘crorss’ at times, particularly if questioned in any way. Might I propose that you accompany moi on any such expedition and bring your top hat with you, so that you can brandish the said instrument of decapitation should Tiggs show any sign of bilious humour.”
“Should that be ill humour, sir?”
“Lord knows. ... You know, Gargers, as much as it is awfully fun sitting here in one’s breakfast room being served by one’s man, deep within sunny Kensington, when the air is crisp and the environs quiet now that the all-night party flappers have gorn home, I cannot help but enquire why you are so continuously and assiduously pouring the morning’s steaming coffee into my cup so that it is now flowing into my saucer and the brown liquid is spreading into the crisp white tablecloth in a manner that is reminiscent of the delta of the Ganges ...”
“ I am not entirely certain that the Ganges could technically be said to have a delta, sir.”
“... very well, in a manner that is reminiscent of the delta of the Amazon, so that is now pouring onto my pink pyjama bottoms and thence into my fluffy slippers.”
“Oh, do forgive me sir, I will desist forthwith from any further pouring. I confess that I was distracted sir, by my current view of Miss Vu, sir.”
“Miss who?”
“Miss Vu, sir.”