Thus, when Florence made her entrance, one or two voices in her audience ejaculated, ‘My God, what’s happened?’ Bertie Saracen cried out shrilly, ‘Does she mean Mary?’ and somebody whose identity remained a secret said in an authoritative British voice: ‘Quiet, everybody. No need to panic,’ as if Florence had called for a fireman rather than a physician.

The only person to remain untouched was Dr Harkness, who was telling a long, inebriated story to Monty Marchant and whose voice droned on indecently in a far corner of the dining-room.

Florence stretched out a shaking hand towards Charles Templeton. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, sir!’ she stammered. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, come quick.’

‘– and this chap said to the other chap …’ Dr Harkness recounted.

Charles said: ‘Good God, what’s the matter! Is it – ?’

‘It’s her, sir. Come quick.’

Charles thrust her aside, ran from the room and pelted upstairs.

‘A doctor!’ Florence said. ‘My God, a doctor!’

It was Marchant who succeeded in bringing Dr Harkness into focus.

‘You’re wanted,’ he said. ‘Upstairs. Mary.’

‘Eh? Bit of trouble?’ Dr Harkness asked vaguely.

‘Something’s happened to Mary.’

Timon Gantry said: ‘Pull yourself together, Harkness. You’ve got a patient.’

Dr Harkness had forgotten to remove his smile, but a sort of awareness now overtook him. ‘Patient?’ he said. ‘Where? Is it Charles?’

‘Upstairs. Mary.’

‘Good gracious!’ said Dr Harkness. ‘Very good. I’ll come.’ He rocked slightly on his feet and remained stationary.

Maurice Warrender said to Florence: ‘Is it bad?’

Her hand to her mouth, she nodded her head up and down like a mandarin.

Warrender took a handful of ice from a wine-cooler and suddenly thrust it down the back of Dr Harkness’s collar.

‘Come on,’ he said. Harkness let out a sharp oath. He swung round as if to protest, lost his balance and fell heavily.

Florence screamed.

‘I’m a’ right,’ Dr Harkness said from the floor. ‘Tripped over something. Silly!’

Warrender and Gantry got him to his feet. ‘I’m all right!’ he repeated angrily. ‘Gimme some water, will you?’

Gantry tipped some out of the ice bucket. Dr Harkness swallowed it down noisily and shuddered. ‘Beastly stuff,’ he said. ‘Where’s this patient?’

From the stairhead, Charles called in an unrecognizable voice: ‘Harkness! Harkness!’

‘Coming,’ Warrender shouted. Harkness, gasping, was led out.

Florence looked wildly round the now completely silent company, wrung her hands and followed them.

Timon Gantry said: ‘More ice, perhaps,’ picked up the wine-cooler and overtook them on the stairs.

The party was left in suspension.