And the one kneeling on the floor was helping her to unlace her hockey boots."Upstairs, the door to the new sanatorium was ajar. Inside, a buxom young...woman, naked to the waist, was being checked by an elderly matron, who wore a stethoscope around her neck. "We'd better not go in," cautioned Miss Hoffmann. "Matron is carrying out one of her regular inspections. That's Juliefungirl. Wants to be a pole dancer when she leaves St Trinian's. She's certainly got the figure for it, wouldn't you say?"I. You are still quite new, as you say. So.” He clapped his hands together emphatically. “Lesson Number One: Men have a very limited attention span.”“No shit, Sherlock,” she muttered, sinking onto the couch.“I beg your pardon?”She coughed and cleared her throat. “I said, ‘That’s a lock.’ So what’s Lesson Number Two?”"Ah, sorry; that was just a bit of Chat Whisperer humor in stating the obvious. Now for the real Lesson Number One."Her eyes followed his quizzically. "Which is...?"“When it comes to. More

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