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379 pages, Paperback
First published July 24, 2014
“I’m not a surgeon.’
‘You don’t have to be. You’re an engineer. That’s almost the same thing.’
‘Your ignorance is frightening.”
I resurfaced to find they were discussing Prentiss's love life. Or lack thereof.
"It's quite easy, really," Hunter was saying. "You just talk to them. These days, men can understand even quite complicated words. Watch."
She turned to Markham, who had recently returned to the orbit of her affection like an erratic comet, and smiled dazzingly at him. As always, whenever she was near, he sat up and looked like an expectant spaniel. She dropped her voice an octave or two. "Well, hello there, big boy. And how tall are you?"
He swallowed hard. "Five foot six."
"Well, let's forget about the five feet and talk about the six inches, shall we?"
I thought he was going to faint. He made the faint gobbling noises of one whose blood has fled south for the winter.
Hunter regarded him complacently and then turned back to Prentiss.
"See? Easy. Give it a go."
She looked around. Major Guthrie was just walking past.
"Good afternoon, Major. How tall are you?"
"Um, six feet and half an inch," he said, and stood bewildered, as, to a man, St. Mary's slid to the floor and laughed its head off.
It would have taken a better women than me to resist the temptation.
"Leon, how tall are you?"
"Five foot ten inches."
What can you say.