Life was rather splendid for Edward "Ned" Arrowsmith, the red fox the aircraft
industry press hailed as "Red Ned." In fact, his life was remarkable in that
he'd never had anything really dreadful happen to him.

He was from a family of modest but sufficient means, growing up in those heady
days when Kings Edward and George had ushered the country out of the severe
sobriety of Queen Victoria's reign. He had enough to eat and a place to sleep,
and when it came time to begin studying engineering his family had just enough
to pay.

He was too young to fight in the Great War so he never had to suffer that either;
he was just preparing to begin his studies in earnest around the time the Battle
of Verdun had begun. He'd gotten an internship at Bristol Aircraft after the war,
helping develop new ideas for re-fitting entire fleets of warplanes for civilian
use and by 1930, he was head of the engineering department.

And now... Well, life was really splendid indeed, he thought to himself as he
stood dressing in the plush bedroom of his cottage in the Gloucestershire
countryside. He pulled on a stylish tailored suit, adjusted his trilby, and waxed
his whiskers into smart points. A quick bishop's miter to a Tyrian purple
handkerchief, and he was off.

There was his perfect garden- he'd recently hired a very skilled gardener- and in
the front drive of nice, even gravel sat a smart dark green and primrose Alvis
saloon ready to whisk him away to his job as lead engineer at Bristol Lunar in style
and comfort.

Yes, life was rather splendid... even if one was married to one's career and rather
lonely at times.