Peter Bowen

Something has happened, and if I can do anything to help, you have only to tell me.

My name is Bone, and I'm just back from France.

Are you a major? inquired Patricia, to whom stars and crowns meant nothing.

I'm afraid I'm a lieutenant colonel, he replied, on the staff.

Oh, how splendid! Of course.

You see, I said that you were Major Brown.

I can easily tell them that they misunderstood and that it was Major Bone.

They're such awful cats, and if they found out, I should have to leave.

Uh, have you got a best rugby memory that sticks out in your mind? Best rugby memory.

Um, Peter Bowen, uh, who did we play against? Um, oh fuck, I think it was Penrhos or something.

And, uh, somewhere some guy had bit.

Somewhere off from our team had bit the other guy.

He goes, "Ref, ref, someone bit me.

Someone bit me." He goes, and then he goes, "His name is, uh, Peter Bowen." He goes, "Peter was number six." He goes, "Number six?" He goes, "It wasn't me.

It wasn't me." Peter then took his ...

He doesn't have any teeth.

Now, let me see." She proceeded to tick off each word upon her fingers.

"He's a Lieutenant Colonel Peter Bone, DSO, MC.

Is that right?" "Bone?" almost shrieked Miss Wangel.

"You said Brown." "Did I? I'm awfully sorry.

My memory's getting worse than ever." Then a wave of mischief took possession of her.

Patricia Brent, Spinster by Herbert Jenkins.

Chapter four.

The Madness of Lord Peter Bone.