AN EXPRESSION of limp despair settled on the face of “Pimples” Perkins, the office’s surly tea-boy, when he was told that his right leg was to be tied at the knee and the ankle to the left leg of the lightly-scented Tobias Fernley-Trout, finance director, so that they could together enter the three-legged race in the inter-departmental-bonding section of the company’s annual sports.
Read