What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. "I'll admit that. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. She flailed against the doctor’s grip but after what seemed an eternity of kicking and flailing, amazingly, he had not seemed weakened in the slightest by her resistance. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. Her husband was prouder of her every day.
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