"Oh, hullo, Spode, hullo. There you are, what? Splendid."
"Can I have a word with you, Wooster?"
"Of course, of course. Have several."
He did not speak for a minute or so, filling in the time by subjecting me to close scrutiny.
"I can't understand it", he said. "How Madeline can contemplate marrying a man like you ... as far as I can see, Wooster, you are without attraction of any kind. Intelligence? No. Looks? No. Efficiency? No".
"She is marrying you in the hope of reforming you, and let me tell you, Wooster, that if you disappoint that hope, you will be sorry ...
... you will probably think you are safe from me when you are doing your stretch in Wormwood Scrubs for larceny, but I shall be waiting for you when you come out, and I shall tear you limb from limb. And," he added ... "dance on the fragments in hobnailed boots".
"All that can be said of you is that you don't wear a moustache. They tell me you did grow one once, but mercifully shaved it off. That is to your credit, but it is a small thing to weigh in the balance against all your other defects".