This is the umpteenth Wodehouseian cloning which deals immaculately and imperishably with the farcical tangles of love's considerable labors. Multi-married American Hollywood tycoon Ivor Llewellyn is guarded from the terrors of further amours -- at his own fervent wish -- by trusty Ephraim Trout, the wizened charter member of Bachelors Anonymous. In London, also engaged in finding or avoiding mates, are a nice young couple, a wistfully improvident baronet, a motherly baker of scones, an actress, etc. Like a musician at the summit who repeats his famous trills at will, Wodehouse again has someone tremble ""like blancmange in a high wind"" which of course essentially is just what this is.