In the Teeth of Adversity Read Online Free PDF Page A

helpfully, “he’s downstairs. Sir Geoffrey, getting impatient. He thinks you’ve forgotten about him.”
    I was all in favour of getting General Sir Malcolm out of the way. We had enough trouble on our hands. It wasn’t the PR problem I’d been called in to take care of, but it might be just as serious. If Morgana Fane decided to sue for malpractice, or something of the sort, she’d have quite a case. Experimenting with a new anaesthetic – with Morgana Fane as your guinea pig. I shuddered quietly. The idea alone was good for a long term at the Scrubs. And when she turned those luminous green eyes on the judge and jury, there’d be a fresh outcry to bring back hanging. When I looked into those eyes myself, I had understood for the first time why men joined the Foreign Legion.
    â€œForget?” Sir Malcolm roared indignantly. “I never forget anything! Damn it, my memory’s better than yours.” He was raging at his son. He seemed to have forgotten – or perhaps, not noticed – that I was the one who had brought up the subject. “I’ve never gone off and left a patient unattended in the chair, sirrah! Nor have I –”
    â€œThere you are, Malcolm.” Sir Geoffrey entered briskly. “Could hear you five miles off with the wind blowing in the opposite direction. I knew you wouldn’t forget me. Might have known” – he favoured Morgana Fane with a fine Edwardian leer – “you’d found something better to occupy your time than an old warhorse like me.”
    â€œHeh, heh, heh,” Sir Malcolm said, suddenly becoming putty in his friend’s competent hands. “Neat little filly, eh?”
    â€œThe best.” Sir Geoffrey twirled his moustache. “Put my last shilling on her, any day.”
    Morgana blossomed, if I may use the expression. She wasn’t sure who the newcomer was, but the aura of money and power was unmistakable. “You might introduce me, Malcolm,” she said sweetly.
    â€œSee here.” I drew Endicott Zayle to one side while these quaint Victorian rites were in progress. “We’ve got to have a conference. Don’t say anything more until I can –”
    â€œEh? What?” Zayle stared at me with a glazed look. I couldn’t really blame him. Sir Malcolm was enough to daze any beholder, even one who knew him so well as – presumably – his own son did.
    â€œAnd who” – Morgana Fane was suddenly beside me again, looking up with a coquettishness obviously left over from the last introduction – “are you?”
    When in doubt, stick to your story. “I’m an emergency,” I said. “An emergency case, that is.” A bright idea hit me, although I couldn’t bring it off with Sir Geoffrey still there. But later, perhaps, when the timing had had a chance to fade and get confused, we might be able to plead that I was the reason Endicott Zayle had left his post. Another’s need had been greater than Morgana’s. I tucked the idea away for future reference.
    â€œGood God, yes, lad!” Meanwhile, Sir Geoffrey backed me with vigour. “You were in a bad way. Has he seen to you yet?”
    â€œEmergency?” Endicott Zayle’s eyes brightened and began to focus properly for the first time that afternoon. “You? Yes, yes, of course.” He gripped my arm firmly and began pulling me toward the chair. “Just come over here and let me look at you. We’ll take care of it immediately.”
    â€œHold it, hold it,” I muttered to him, drawing back. “Don’t get carried away. That was just the cover story – remember?”
    â€œCover story?” he said blankly. “What are you talking about? If you aren’t an emergency, what are you doing here?”
    â€œI’ve been asking myself the same question,” I said, trying to hang on to what little equilibrium I had left. I