" "Please!" She dropped the curtains and the manuscripts, knelt and held out her arms. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. Challenge accepted. Somewhere, where we can talk without interruption. ‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’ ‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary. "I am Owen Wood, at your service. .
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