Bertie Wooster: You, er, ate something last night that disagreed with you, did you?
Wilmot Pershore: No. Nothing of the kind. I drank too much. Much too much. Lots and lots too much. And what's more, I'm going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night!
Bertie Wooster: Yes, well... yes, right. You see, the thing is, Motty — I'm sort of responsible for you, so to speak, and if you carry on like this I'm liable to end up neck-deep in the soup with your mother.
Wilmot Pershore: Well, I can't help your troubles, old thing. This is the first time in my life I've had the chance to yield to the temptations of a great city.
Bertie Wooster: Well, yes, but Motty—
Wilmot Pershore: No, old thing. All my bally life I've been cooped up in the ancestral home in Much Middlefold in Shropshire. And until you've been cooped up in Much Middlefold in Shropshire, you don't know what cooping is. This is my only chance to assemble a disreputable past, and I'm going to take it!
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