‘I do not command your services, mon major. She pulled, he rose to his feet. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. ’ ‘But you are not a surgeon,’ protested Melusine. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. It was one of the most educational disillusionments in Ann Veronica’s career.
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