“Everyone plays polo out here.” Captain Inkerrow drew on his cheroot. “If you don’t play, the Royal Malverns won’t accept you.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Major Jack Windrush of the 113th Foot said.
“The high season is in cold weather, of course,” Inkerrow gave a well-bred laugh. “This hot weather polo is a low standard affair. One only plays to get exercise, with slow chukkas.”
Jack nodded without listening. He was more interested in Inkerrow’s attitude than his opinion.
“How many ponies do you have, Major?” Inkerrow raised his eyebrows as he asked the question.
“None,” Jack said.
Inkerrow looked away in disdain. “I take it the 113th is not a polo regiment.”
“No,” Jack said. “The 113th is a fighting regiment." He paused for a moment. “And in the 113th, we address our senior officers
