At the very moment he cried out, David realised that what he had run into was only the Christmas tree. Disgusted with himself at such cowardice, he spat a needle from his mouth, stepped back from the tree and listened. There were no sounds of any movement upstairs: no shouts, no sleepy grumbles, only a gentle tinkle from the decorations as the tree had recovered from the collision.

Again we read at page 174: “Instead of the Universal Roman Catholic Church there existed after 1650 the National Catholic Churches of Spain, France, Austria, Poland, etc. more subject to the Royal supremacy than to the Papal, not, however, so completely as in England.” This is obviously an exaggeration. There never existed in the countries mentioned, least of all in Spain, any National Catholic Church. There would not have existed any such contradictorially-named organization even in England had it not been for the lechery of Henry VIII. Other similar misstatements might be noticed here and there. The author's intention, however, to be just is patent and his success in this respect is noteworthy.

The team was given an unreasonably short amount of time to put together a presentation.

The next six hours consisted of 40-something-year-old TwiMoms who couldn't wait to get a glance of Carlisle, rude people trying to cut in line, and an insane lady bringing her fussy baby who wouldn't stop crying.