Stephen, who had strolled across the room to the cakestand, saw her spill her tea, and tossed her his handkerchief. ‘Clumsy wench! Here, have this!’

‘Tea stains things absolutely fatally,’ said Valerie.

‘Not if you rub hard enough,’ returned Mathilda, using Stephen’s handkerchief vigorously.

‘I was thinking of Stephen’s hanky.’

‘I wasn’t. Thanks, Stephen. Do you want it back?’

‘Not particularly. Come over to the fire, and steam off!’

She obeyed, rejecting various pieces of helpful advice proffered by Maud and Paula. Stephen held out a plate of small cakes. ‘Take one. Always fortify yourself against coming ordeals.’

She looked round, satisfying herself that Roydon, at the other end of the long room, was out of earshot, and said in an anguished undertone: ‘Stephen, it’s about a prostitute!’

‘What is?’ he asked, interested. ‘Not this misbegotten play?’

She nodded, shaken with inward laughter. Stephen looked pleased for the first time that day. ‘You don’t mean it! Won’t Uncle enjoy himself! I meant to go away, to write mythical letters. I shan’t now. I wouldn’t miss this for a fortune.’

‘For God’s sake, behave decently!’ she begged. ‘It’s going to be ghastly!’

‘Nonsense, my girl! A good time is going to be had by all.’

‘Stephen, if you’re unpleasant to the poor silly young ass, I shall have a shot at murdering you!’

He opened his eyes at her. ‘Sits the wind in that quarter? I wouldn’t have thought it of you.’

‘No, you fool. But he’s too vulnerable. It would be cruelty to children. Besides, he’s in deadly earnest.’

‘Over-engined for his beam,’ said Stephen. ‘I might get a rise.’

‘More than you’d bargained for, I daresay. I always play safe with that unbalanced, neurotic type.’

‘I never play safe with anyone.’

‘Don’t talk to me in that showing-off way!’ said Mathilda tartly. ‘It doesn’t impress me!’

He laughed, and left her side, returning to his seat beside Nathaniel on the sofa. Paula was already talking about Roydon’s play, her stormy eyes daring anyone to leave the room. Nathaniel was bored, and said: ‘If we’ve got to hear it, we’ve got to. Don’t talk so much! I can judge your play without your assistance. Seen more good, bad, and indifferent plays in my time than you’ve ever dreamt of.’ He rounded suddenly on Roydon. ‘What category does yours come into?’

The only weapon to use against these Herriards, Mathilda knew, was a directness as brutal as their own. If Roydon were to reply boldly, Good! Nathaniel would be pleased. But Roydon was out of his depth, had been out of it from the moment Nathaniel’s butler had first run disparaging eyes over him. He was wavering between the hostility born of an over-sensitive inferiority-complex and nourished by his host’s rudeness, and a desire, which had its root only in his urgent need, to please. He said, stammering and flushing: ‘Well, really, that’s hardly for me to say!’

‘Ought to know whether you’ve done good work or bad,’ said Nathaniel, turning away.