“I can hear the sound of the great unwashed, thundering over the horizon, Peregrine, fortune favours the brave, what!”
Theobald Tanqueray Thompkinson, leaning unsteadily forwards, jocular and rotund; rubicund, reckless and implausibly optimistic. A glass of gin cradled carefully in one hand, the other carving swathes through the alcoholic fug. A Prince of Wales checked suit [...]