"Go on! What are you waiting for?" I fumbled at the handle.
"I don't seem to be able to get the door open," I explained meekly.
"Tchah!" said Miss Ukridge, swooping down. One of the rooted convictions of each member of the human race is that he or she is able without difficulty to open a door which has baffled their fellows. She took the handle and gave it a vigorous tug. The door creaked, gut remained unresponsive.
"What's the matter with the thing?" exclaimed Mis Ukridge petulantly.
"It's stuck."
"I know it's stuck. Please do something at once. Good gracious, Mr. Corcoran, surely you are at least able to open a drawing-room door."
It seemed, put in that tone of voice, a feat sufficiently modest for a man of good physique and fair general education; but I was reluctantly compelled to confess, after a few more experiments, that it was beyond my powers. This appeared to confirm my hostess in the opinion, long held by her, that I was about the most miserable worm that an inscrutable Providence had ever permitted to enter the world.
(from Eggs Beans and Crumpets, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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