"Sounds like some period thing." He adopts a snooty, quavering, Maggie-Smith-esque falsetto. "And now, back to Torchwood. When last we left Ms. Thruppitybits, she and Sir Reginald Paddihose were teetering on the brink of reckless indiscretion..." A shift to something a bit more Alistair Cook: "I daresay, Ms. T, you might hold my hand, but kindly keep your gloves on."