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I've told you before, Sidney's not fit company for any woman under the age of - well, certainly not fit for you. Tristan, if you're going to assume any pretensions to actually becoming my sister's husband, you'd be well advised to do a better job of protecting her from Reilly than you have up to this point from rides in zeppelins and set-tos with German tanks. I'll speak to him myself, of course, but he's so bloody attractive to women that it's hardly any use.
Works for the Foreign Office, something about information retrieval, he's always told me, though why that should involve the constant wearing of a gun I've no idea. Yes, and that's another thing - he's always trying to pull people into the most incomprehensible actions, and the thing is, he's so incredibly persuasive that one tends to go along with it. Not this time, however - since the day I found myself at the bloody Japanese embassy holding a rolled newspaper to the wall of someone's office, I've broken myself of his influence. Sidney's never going to hypnotise me again.
What's that, Gwendolen? He's there at the station? How did he know......it IS him! And he's waving. Bloody nerve, probably thinks we're here just at his beck and call. Not one word to him, Gwendolen, until I - my God, look at that wool worsted suit with damask lapels he's holding up!
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