#51630 - The baritone would step out onto the stage in his costume—a large moustache, an army uniform and a girly little umbrella—to splutter in a silly, overdone, and completely hysterical way, “Yes, yes, I am a Major-General!” Calla was smiling a little bit more, but she was drawn from her idle thoughts; she looked up as the train conductor announced on the voice-over, “Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be arriving at Penzance, where this train terminates. People would kill to have what you have. ” “At what, exactly?” She met his eyes.
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