‘Dearest Mrs Alleyn,’ said a faint voice, ‘I have a tiny cramp in my leg.’

‘Lord, I’m sorry!’ said Troy. ‘You’ve been wonderful. Do have a rest.’

He came down into the auditorium, limping a little but still with an air, and stood before her canvas.

‘It’s so piercingly right,’ he said. ‘Too exciting! I mean, it really is theatre, and the Old Person and that devastating Bard all synthesized and made eloquent and everything. It terrifies me.’

He sank into a near-by stall, first spreading his cloak over the back, and fanned himself. ‘I can’t tell you how I’ve died to prattle,’ he went on, ‘all the time I was up there. This house is simply seething with intrigue.’

Troy, who was herself rather exhausted, lit a cigarette, sat down, and eyed her work. She also listened with considerable interest to Cedric.

‘First I must tell you,’ he began, ‘the Old Person has positively sent for his solicitor. Imagine! Such lobbyings and whisperings! One is reminded of Papal elections in the seventeenth century. First the marriage settlement, of course. What do you suppose darling Sonia will have laid down as the minimum? I’ve tried piteously hard to wheedle it out of her, but she’s turned rather secretive and grande dame. But, of course, however much it is it’s got to come from somewhere. Panty was known to be first favourite. He’s left her some fabulous sum to make her à parti when she grows up. But we all feel her little pranks will have swept her right out of the running. So perhaps darling Sonia will have that lot. Then there’s Paul and Fenella, who have undoubtedly polished themselves off. I rather hope,’ said Cedric with a modest titter and a very sharp look in his eye, ‘that I may reap something there. I think I’m all right, but you never know. He simply detests me, really, and the entail is quite ridiculous. Somebody broke it up or something ages ago, and I may only get this awful house and nothing whatever to keep it up with. Still, I really have got Sonia on my side.’

He touched his moustache and pulled a small pellet of cosmetic off his eyelashes. ‘I made up,’ he explained in parentheses, ‘because I felt it was so essential to get the feeling of the Macsoforth seeping through into every fold of the mantle. And partly because it’s such fun painting one’s face.’