‘What would Arnold have said if he were here?’ I asked cautiously. Arnold was her ex; when the Princess was in a very good mood, one might risk reminding her of him. She was in a good mood now.

‘He wouldn’t have said anything,’ she answered. ‘He didn’t have anything to say anyway, but I only realised that much later.’

‘Not very quick then?’

‘There’s more sense in my wastepaper basket than there is in his head! He didn’t talk much. At first I thought his silences were terribly meaningful, but he just wasn’t much of a talker. You get them sometimes.’

A footfall on the soft moss; a little boy came stumbling along the forest path, muttering something to himself. When he saw us, he stopped, looked up at the trees and started running.

‘That could have been a case for the public prosecutor,’ I said. ‘With his ingenuity, he could have built up a whole case just from that. But the little boy was probably just reciting his tables, and felt embarrassed when he saw us . . .’

‘No, it was like this,’ said the Princess. She lay on her back and told her story to the clouds:

‘A boy was sent to the shops one day for soap and salt. So he kept singing to himself, soap and salt . . . soap and salt . . . But he didn’t watch where he was going, and he tripped over a string in a bean-field. Hell’s bells! A string and beans! String and beans! he said – and he stuck with string and beans, and ended up buying them. Oh, Peter! Peter! What’s life all about! Tell me quickly, what? I don’t want to hear any more foul language . . . I know all the words anyway. What is it about? I want to know right now!’

I sucked the end of a bitter fir-twig. ‘First of all,’ I said, ‘I saw how it was. And then I understood why it was like that – and then I appreciated why it couldn’t be any other way. But I still want it to be different. It’s a trial of strength. If you can remain true to yourself . . .’

In her deepest contralto voice she said, ‘After all the times you’ve proved how true you are to me . . .’

‘I wonder if it’s possible to have a serious conversation with a woman. I don’t think so. And they go and give the creatures a vote!’

‘That’s what my boss always says too. I wonder what he’s up to now?’

‘He’s probably bored, but really pleased with himself to be in Abbazia. Your Generalkonsul . . .’