‘You will play exotic roles, Fenella, and I shall design wonderful clothes for you. It would be rather fun,’ Cedric went on, ‘when and if I inherit Ancreton, to turn it into a frightfully exclusive theatre. The only catch in that is that Sonia might be there as the dowager baronetess, in which case she would insist on playing all the leading roles. Oh, dear, I do want some money so badly. What do you suppose is the best technique, Fenella? Shall I woo the Old Person or suck up to Sonia? Paul, you know all about the strategy of indirect approach. Advise me, my dear.’

‘Considering you’re supposed to earn about twice as much as any of the rest of us!’

‘Pure legend. A pittance, I assure you.’

The white pony had sauntered into a lane that ran directly up to the gates of Ancreton, which was now displayed to its greatest advantage. A broad walk ran straight from the gates across a series of terraces, and by way of flights of steps up to a platform before the house. The carriage-drive swept away to the left and was hidden by woods. They must be an extremely rich family, Troy decided, to have kept all this going, and as if in answer to her thoughts, Fenella said: ‘You wouldn’t guess from here how much the flower gardens have gone back, would you?’

‘Are the problem children still digging for a Freudian victory?’ asked Cedric.

‘They’re doing a jolly good job of work,’ Paul rejoined. ‘All the second terrace was down in potatoes this year. You can see them up there now.’ Troy had already noticed a swarm of minute figures on the second terrace.

‘The potato!’ Cedric murmured. ‘A pregnant sublimation, I feel sure.’

‘You enjoy eating them, anyway,’ Fenella said bluntly.

‘Here we are, Mrs Alleyn. Do you honestly feel like walking? If so, we’ll go up the Middle Walk and Cedric can drive.’

They climbed out. Paul opened the elaborate and becrested iron gates, explaining that the lodge was now used as a storehouse for vegetables. Cedric, holding the reins with a great show of distaste, was borne slowly off to the left. The other three began the ascent of the terraces.

The curiously metallic sound of children’s singing quavered threadily in the autumn air.

Then sing a yeo-heave ho,

Across the seas we’ll go;

There’s many a girl that I know well

On the banks of the Sacramento.

As they climbed the second flight of steps a woman’s crisp voice could be heard, dominating the rest.

And Down, and Kick, and Hee-ee-eeve. Back.

And Down, and Kick and Hee-ee-ve.