‘Well, Papa,’ said Thomas, ‘I expect you know what I’m going to say, because, after all, this is your Birthday dinner, and we all know it’s a great occasion and how splendid it is for us to be here again as usual in spite of everything. Except Claude, of course, which is a pity, because he would think of a lot of new things to say, and I can’t.’ At this point a slight breeze of discomfort seemed to stir among the Ancreds. ‘So I shall only say,’ Thomas battled on, ‘how proud we are to be gathered here, remembering your past achievements and wishing you many more Birthday dinners in the time that is to come. Yes,’ said Thomas, after a thoughtful pause, ‘that’s all, I think. Oh, I almost forgot! We all, of course, hope that you will be very happy in your married life. I shall now ask everybody to drink Papa’s health, please.’

The guests, evidently accustomed to a very much longer speech and taken unawares by the rapidity of Thomas’s peroration, hurriedly got to their feet.

‘Papa,’ said Thomas.

‘Papa,’ echoed Jenetta, Millamant, Pauline and Desdemona.

‘Grandpapa,’ murmured Fenella, Cedric and Paul.

‘Sir Henry,’ said the Rector loudly, followed by Mr Rattisbon, the Squire and Troy.

‘Noddy!’ said Miss Orrincourt, shrilly. ‘Cheers. Oodles of juice in your tank.’