At the moment she was seated before her hand-loom, sorting coloured wools. She looked solemn. Turnbridge Tessa, an Alsatian bitch, lay at her feet.

‘Hullo, darling,’ said Lady Alleyn. ‘Do you think Mr Bathgate could wear green and red? His eyes are grey, of course. Perhaps grey and purple.’

‘His eyes!’

‘Don’t be silly, Roderick. I’ve promised him some tweed. Yours is finished. It’s in the chest over there. Go and look at it.’

‘But—your dog!’

‘What about her? She’s obviously taken a fancy to you.’

‘Do you think so? She certainly has had her eye on me.’

Alleyn went to the hand-carved chest, closely followed by Tunbridge Tessa. He found his tweed.

‘But, darling, it really is quite amazingly good,’ he said. ‘I’m delighted with it.’

‘Are you?’ asked his mother a little anxiously.

‘Indeed I am.’

‘Well, your eyes are so blue it was easy for me. Mr Bathgate has told me all about the baby coming. We’ve had a lovely talk. How did you get on at Tatler’s End House, Roderick?’

‘Better, thank you. We’re off now, darling. I hope I’m going to spend the rest of the morning in a chorus lady’s bed-sit in Chelsea.’

‘Are you?’ said his mother vaguely. ‘Why?’

‘Routine.’

‘It seems to lead you into strange places. I’ll come downstairs and see you off. You may take the car, Roderick.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘I’ve already told Finch to drive you in. I’ve a job for him in Sloane Street.’

When they were half-way downstairs she said:

‘Roderick, shall I ring her up? Would you like me to ring her up?’

‘Very much,’ said Alleyn.

He collected Fox and Nigel. They wrote their names in Lady Alleyn’s book.

‘And you will come again whenever you like?’ she said.

‘That will be very soon, I’m afraid,’ Nigel told her.

‘Not too soon. What about Mr Fox?’

‘It has been very pleasant indeed, my lady,’ said Fox. He straightened up, pen in hand, and gravely unhooked his spectacles. ‘I shall like to think about it. It’s been quite different, you see, from my usual run of things. Quite an experience, you might say, and a very enjoyable one. If I may say so, you have a wonderful way with you, my lady. I felt at home.’

Alleyn abruptly took his arm.

‘You see, ma’am,’ he said, ‘we have courtiers at the Yard.’

‘Something a little better than that. Goodbye, my dear.’

In the car Alleyn and Fox thumbed over their notebooks and occasionally exchanged remarks. Nigel, next the chauffeur, spent the time in pleasurable anticipation of his reception at the office. They cut through from Shepherd’s Bush to Holland Road and thence into Chelsea. Alleyn gave the man directions which finally brought them into a narrow and not very smart cul-de-sac behind Smith Street.