Thursday, 22 November 2012

On the fly

He seized a spear from one of the guards on the fly, and began to stab the surrounding carpet, cursing something fearful. Then he flung the spear aside, shook his fists at heaven, and darted into the pavilion . . . and the assembled military and civilian worthies stood silent and thoughtful, determined not to look at each other, like a convocation of clergy when the bishop has farted extempore.

Flashman on the March, p.200, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.

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