Scotch nemesis

There was one quiet Lancer, though, a black-whiskered Scotch nemesis who said never a word, and played the bull fiddle for his recreation. He caught my eye then, and again fifteen years later when he led the march to Peking, the most terrible killing gentleman you every saw: Hope Grant.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.274, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Set it to music

Pity you couldn’t set it to music and sing it as an anthem, thinks I.

Flashman's Lady, p.147, Pan edition, 1979.

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A complete fag

…I found The Barber of Seville a complete fag: fat Italians screeching, and not a word to be understood.

Royal Flash, p.52, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.

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Theatrical entertainment

My own idea of theatrical entertainment, I admit, is the music hall; strapping wenches and low comedians are my line, and your fine drama and music bore me to death.

Royal Flash, p.52, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.

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