Geoffrey's discretion and inside knowledge make Jeeves look like a noisy parvenu. The tales he overheard are too numerous even for his superb memory. Where Jeeves got in a tizzy about Wooster's eccentric dress-style, Geoffrey would just recognise a regimental tie, make a mental connection, and ignore the rest. His pick-me-ups were better and his confidence worth having. May his retirement be a long and happy one.

Old soldiers, and now some young ones with their leggy girlfriends, will carry on putting the world to rights in Geoffrey's Bar, and the sun will come up next morning as usual, and the world will have changed, and yet still be the same. That is the glory and the genius of the British Establishment: adapt and survive; co-opt and conquer.