Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Degrees of Danger



Even by his might-as-well-be-a-wife’s standards, Harold was somewhat stuffy. It came with the job, really, a ‘purveyor of books and obscurities’ could hardly be anything else. Harold might disagree with the epithet – as far as he was aware, he was a lively go-getter who didn’t baulk at rushing headlong into danger. This was true enough. As long as the danger was of the kind that might occur when one person outbids another at an auction, to be avenged with a hard stare and the consumption of a complimentary biscuit, then Harold faced danger daily. If the danger were more physical, though, then he would be the one standing to one side saying “jolly good shot, sir!”

1 comment:

Zinnia Cyclamen said...

Yeah, me too.

BTW I was sorry to see from your comment on another Novel Racer's blog that three of your nearest and dearest are in different hospitals, that must be a nightmare. I hope they all come home and recover fully very very soon.