There are few sights more alarming in the West End than young Bingo Little sitting in a club armchair with a dreamy, vacant stare. It usually means his heart is thoroughly compromised, his pockets are entirely empty, and Bertie Wooster is about to pay for it.
Bingo and the Little Woman plunges us straight into the terrifying world of high-society romance on a shoestring budget. Driven by his latest bout of life-altering devotion, Bingo is ready to conquer the world—provided someone else covers the bill. Naturally, Bertie is drafted in as the reluctant sponsor of this new emotional venture, only to find himself trapped in a posh, suffocating London club surrounded by octogenarian members who look like they survived the Napoleonic Wars. Wodehouse brilliantly balances the soaring heights of youthful infatuation against the cold, hard reality of British social decorum.
You don't listen to find out if love conquers all; you listen for the glorious, sharp-witted friction of two absolute idlers trying to navigate the real world.