‘I believe not,’ Richard said. He turned his back on Marchant and sat beside Anelida on the sofa.

‘Oh, lud!’ Bertie sighed, ‘how wearing has been this long, long day and how frightened in a vague sort of way I continue to feel. Never mind. Toujours l’audace.’

The handle of the door into the hall was heard to turn. Everybody looked up. Florence walked round the leather screen. ‘If you’ll just wait, miss,’ the constable said and retired. Philpott cleared his throat.

Richard said: ‘Come in, Floy. Come and sit down.’

She glared stonily at him, walked into the farthest corner of the room and sat on the smallest chair. Pinky looked as if she’d like to say something friendly to her, but the impulse came to nothing and a heavy silence again fell upon the company.

It was broken by the same sound and a heavier tread. Bertie half-rose from his seat, gave a little cry of frustration and sank back again as Colonel Warrender made his entry, very erect and looking at no one in particular.

‘We were just talking about you,’ said Bertie fretfully.

Richard stood up. ‘Come and join us,’ he said, and pushed a chair towards the sofa.

‘Thank you, old boy,’ Warrender said awkwardly, and did so.

Anelida leant towards him and after a moment’s hesitation put her hand on his knee. ‘I intend,’ she said under her breath, ‘to bully Richard into marrying me. Will you be on my side and give us your blessing?’

He drew his brows together and stared at her. He made an unsuccessful attempt to speak, hit her hand painfully hard with his own and ejaculated: ‘Clumsy ass. Hurt you, isn’t it? Ah – bless you.’

‘OK,’ said Anelida and looked at Richard. ‘Now, you see, darling, you’re sunk.’

There was a sound of masculine voices in the hall, Pinky said: ‘Oh, dear!’ and Gantry: ‘Ah, for God’s sake!’ Marchant finished his drink quickly and PC Philpott rose to his feet. So, after a mulish second or two, did Florence.

This time it was Alleyn who came round the leather screen.

There was only one place in the room from which he could take them all in at one glance, and that was the hearthrug. Accordingly, he went to it and stood there like the central figure in some ill-assembled conversation piece.