‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. . She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. Peste, she had forgot the sword. ’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla.
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