What Ho!

Resigned, you wave your hand carelessly. "Oh, go ahead, what is this beastly plan?"

"Cunning plan, Petey old shoe, cunning. That's the operative word. Now look here, have you noticed that old MacGillicuddy is mad about begonias?"

"Well, Cuddy had mentioned he was up here to peruse the herbs, as it were."

"Peruse isn't the half of it, he is positively flower obsessed. Lord knows I have to listen to lecture after lecture on the fine points of leaf structure." He quakes visibly, the poor lout.

Fatty continues, "Now then, as you may have heard, he is up here to see what amounts to the Hope Diamond of all begonias, the rare African Begonia, which that Burton-on-Trent character has plucked off the darkest shores of the Nile. For some ungodly reason, Sir Robert has seen fit to plop this bloom down in Ghastley's personal greenhouse."

"I was wondering what Sir Bob was doing prancing around here, instead of lurking in his proper jungle habitat."

"Quite. He certainly isn't here to regal the dinner guests with his accounts of flesh gnawing jungle beetles.

"Anyway, Pop MacGillicuddy wants that plant more than a new tax sheltered dog food mill, and he's willing to do anything to get it. But Ghastley won't give it up for love or money."

The mental alarum goes off. "You aren't suggesting other means are you?"

It's Fatty's turn to wave carelessly "Oh, really, what's a little theft among collectors? I hear art mavins do it all the time with portraits. As long as it stays in the hobby, as it were, it's laughed off as good boyish fun."

You remain unconvinced, but are a dutiful conversationalist. You provide the conversational prod. "So you then bestow it on MacG?"

"Bingo! Winning his heart over, while demonstrating that while I might not be willing to engage in the marginally criminal behavior of trade, honourable manly activities are meat and drink for the Fenwicks!"

"Honourable manly activities such as purloining a plant?"

He rolls his eyes "Petey, I already explained to you that it's no big deal. Anyway, once Winifred has seen how much I'm willing to risk for her, she'll fall into my arms like gravy pouring over a juicy roast."

Fatty's metaphors make your stomach growl, and you think of elevenses. Pulling your mind away from the ensuing crumpets for a moment, you ask the obvious.