She spoke to me as if we had parted from each other half an hour before. “Well, darling, I did say I didn’t blame you. I’m sure it was done in all innocence, you introducing them, I mean. But it was on your account she was always phoning here. And once they’d met, if you can credit it, but he swears it’s true, it was love at first sight.” We might have been close friends on intimate terms. “Come up to the drawing room. My poor drawing room that I loved so much and that I’ll have to leave behind. I’m leaving, you know. I’m going on Friday, and I suppose I shall have to look on all this for the last and final time.”

I glanced about me. There were fluff and hairs on the emerald carpet, dust on the once shining surfaces, and the flowers in the Chinese vases were dead. The ashtrays, surprisingly in that household, were full of cigarette ends.

“It hasn’t been cleaned for weeks, darling. I haven’t let Beryl clean it. I couldn’t really tell you why, it was a sort of gesture on my part. I suppose I feel I shan’t mind leaving it so much if it’s all filthy and spoiled. Do you remember the party we had for your birthday? We were all so happy then, weren’t we? You and me and Max, just like a family. I mustn’t cry. I’ve used up all my waterproof mascara and I haven’t replaced it. There are so many things that have just lapsed, darling.”

This hardly seemed the time to mention the actor, but when would be the time? She was leaving at the end of the week. I asked her tentatively, trying to think of a reason for wanting to know and failing to find one. This mattered not at all as Selina was quite uninterested in me, in what I might be doing, where I was living or anyone I might have seen or met.

“Oh, him, darling, yes. He’s called Sean Francis. Terribly dishy, don’t you think? Lovely eyes and those sort of soft features. He was the guest star on Streetwise for two episodes. Not that he’s a star, just amazingly fanciable. I only wish I was ten years younger, but that’s all water under the bridge or ships that pass in the night or something, isn’t it? I’ve given Max my best years and he’s thrown them aside like an old cigarette butt. Did I tell you I’ve started smoking again? It’s a great comfort. I only gave it up to please His Majesty.” She passed me the silver cigarette box as if we’d never had those inquests about the smell of smoke in old Mrs. Fisherton’s. “It keeps me thin, too. I can get into a size six.”