Colonel Williams, Master of Fox Hounds and prime mover behind the New Year Ball, had taken over the microphone from the crooner. The band fell silent....The Colonel was nearly seventy but straight as a ramrod and still riding to hounds as befitted a retired cavalryman or 'donkey walloper, ' asPeter irreverently called him. There were spots of colour on the man's cheeks and his nose glowed like one of the new Beleisha beacons that had recently appeared on the streets to mark pedestrian crossings.. "I don't do suits Ral." I realize that, but you look good in it. It looks good on you. Leave it alone."She rolled her eyes and started for the doors. I followed and had to grab her arm when she stumbled in the heels. They were only two-inch heels, but she was used to the wide support of her boots. "When we get done talking to the police I'm changing back into my normal clothes." That's fine, but we still have an 'interview' to have. Then we'll head back and talk to the police."We got to her. “I would have gone today but that I tarried to see you arrive. So, you see, you have delayed me on my journey as well!” The company laughed. “Can I possibly assist your friend in his journey? The travel will not be fast, but it is safer by far in this country to travel in company than to venture alone.”“I hoped you would suggest it,” said the knight. “Steven, my brother journeys often between Zannopolis and Byzatica. And there might be opportunity to practice your other craft as well.”“Is he. The slipper?”“Why thank you.” was the reply. “And Mr Jones, could you just check those tits stay on the table? There’s a good man.”She felt the sole of the slipper address her naked arse. A couple of soft pats.Then ‘SPLAT'Jo reared up as a wave of pain shot through her. Barely able to recover… ‘SPLAT’'SPLAT SPLAT’Then a pause.“I’m afraid her tits left the desk Jim”“Maybe jet hold her down?” “OK”Mr Jones held her head against the desk. Her legs were held in position by the thick books.‘SPLAT,.