The Summer of Sir Lancelot

dress which to his first startled gaze seemed in danger of putting on public view the young lady‘s entire thorax. Her big blue eyes shone from heavy frames of bronze make-up. Her golden hair was shaped as elaborately as a Viennese pastry.
    ‘Good grief, you look like a left-over from the Denning Report,‘ he declared.
    ‘Uncle, will you do me a terrific favour?‘ she asked breathlessly.
    He looked bleak. ‘Precisely what sort of favour had you in mind?‘
    ‘Let me climb through your window.‘
    ‘H‘m,‘ said Sir Lancelot.
    ‘I‘m absolutely desperate.‘ Her voice quivered. ‘It‘s my first pass for weeks, and Matron‘s cancelled it. I dropped a patient‘s jelly,‘ she explained.
    As Sir Lancelot sipped his brandy a glow of indulgence spread slowly across his frost-bound features. He saw several points in the girl‘s simple request. She would be able to meet this excellent young man Tolly, who had suffered not only the expense but the rigours of British Railways to see her again so soon. She would enjoy a few hours‘ relaxation from the drab life of the hospital. And it would be one in the eye for the Matron, who on reflection he felt had been a toffee-nosed old fusspot over the nightclub affair.
    ‘I can just slip down and run past the Throat Department out into the street,‘ Euphemia continued eagerly. ‘I‘ve worked it all out.‘
    Sir Lancelot gave a smile. ‘I am only sorry that my condition precludes my giving you a leg-up.‘
    ‘Oh, Uncle! You‘re fabulous!‘
    She gave him a hearty kiss.
    ‘I‘m glad for your sake it‘s a hot evening,‘ he added benevolently. ‘Otherwise I fear you would be in serious danger of catching a chill.‘
    With a flash of legs over the sill, Euphemia was gone.
    Sir Lancelot swilled his brandy round the mug. When a man knows he is to be operated upon in the morning, it concentrates his mind wonderfully. Twenty-four hours in Tim Tolly‘s company at Leafy Grove had convinced him the young man wasn‘t a bad sort of fellow at all. Mind, he had no interest in cricket or fishing, but apparently he was keen on the violin instead. He was admittedly a psychiatrist, so automatically insane, but he wasn‘t half as mad as the other ones. Sir Lancelot took another sip of brandy, then with furrowed brow transferred his thoughts to the Professor. The meeting would be difficult. It hardly does getting your knife into a man who is already booked shortly to get his into you.
    ‘Come in!‘
    Tim Tolly burst through the door.
    ‘I‘m afraid the bird has flown.‘ Sir Lancelot eyed him with mild surprise. ‘If you want to catch her up, that is the way from the nest, he added, indicating the window.
    ‘I never wish to set eyes on Euphemia again as long as I live.‘
    ‘What?‘
    ‘So she got away through there, did she?‘ he exclaimed bitterly. ‘You‘re in the conspiracy against me too, are you? I have no hesitation in describing your conduct as perfectly filthy.‘
    ‘You keep a civil tongue in your head when you‘re addressing me!‘ snapped the surgeon.
    ‘Why should I?‘ Tim continued furiously. ‘I‘ve lost every shred of respect for you. I was in love with Effie. I wanted to get engaged, perfectly honourably. And there you go, egging her on to play fast and loose with every Tom, Dick, and Harry in London.‘
    ‘How dare you! I merely let her effect her escape because the Matron had unfairly cancelled her pass.‘
    ‘You‘re telling the story too? Of course the Matron hasn‘t cancelled her pass.‘
    ‘And to whom, may I ask,‘ thundered Sir Lancelot, ‘are you indebted for that information?‘
    ‘The Matron. I‘ve just been to see her.‘
    Suddenly running out of fuel, Tim sat heavily on the bed.
    There was a long silence.
    ‘Have a grape,‘ offered Sir Lancelot.
    ‘I‘m sorry, sir,‘ apologized Tim. ‘I was a little overwrought.
    ‘So it would seem. And if you continue to grind your teeth like that, young man, I fear you will be in danger of damaging the enamel. Perhaps you would have the goodness to tell me,‘ he invited, ‘as a perfectly innocent bystander, exactly what is going on?‘
    Tim shrugged his shoulders.
    ‘I‘d come to take Effie out to dinner with...well, with Charlie Chadwick. The old fellow sent for me yesterday. Rather urgent. You know I‘ve been treating this anaemia and dyspepsia of his? It‘s been worse with all his business worries. I travelled down overnight.‘
    ‘To visit the Psychological Society