A snag

I looked at Uncle Percy, confidently expecting the salvo of applause, and was amazed to find him shaking the bean once more.

“It wouldn’t work,” he said.

“Why on earth not? It’s a pip.”

He kept on oscillating the lozenge.

“No Bertie, the scheme is not practical. Your aunt, my dear boy, is a suspicious woman. She probes beneath the surface and asks questions. And the first one she would ask on this occasion would be, Why, merely in order to discuss wedding arrangements with my ward’s future husband did I dress up as Sindbad the Sailor? You can see for your self how awkward that question would be, and how difficult to answer.”

The point was well taken.

P.G. Wodehouse, Joy in the Morning