‘That’s fresh villainy,’ came the butler’s deep reply. ‘These are uncertain days and nights, oh wandering Iremonger, and in them what are you doing walking boulevards that are not yours to walk. What do you mean by it, to tread about so? Well now, my pedestrian, where did you go exploring? Did you see anything new, anything magnificent? It is magnificent, this Iremonger Park. What did you find to excite you, what made you gasp and wonder? Please, do tell, I should so like to hear it, I cannot gather enough good opinion of this mighty mansion.’

His words, though so deep they felt chiselled upon stone, were so much gentler than the housekeeper’s scratching noise, and he looked at me with what I thought was kindness. He so loved the place, I wanted to tell him something good of it, I wanted to make him happy. I wanted his favour against hers.

‘I saw, Mr Sturridge, sir, the Clip Room with all its scissors hanging up, hundreds of them there must be.’

‘Yes, oh yes, it is such a sharp place. Some of the nails of the older Iremongers do grow a little tough and some are let advance to great twisting lengths, some are sharpened as keen as any knife, but in the Clip Room there are jaws to trim ’em, to bring them to order. Very good, what else did you see?’

‘The smoking chamber with all its leather seating.’

‘You’ve been in the Smoggery?’

‘It smells of places far away.’

‘Indeed it does, it does. Of Turkey, of Afrique, perfumes of Arabie. Quite right. And what else did you see?’

‘I saw, most of all, a huge place with marble flooring and a great chest filled with the most beautiful treasures.’ But this last admission was not well taken.

‘She’s been in Marble Hall! A firegrate in Marble Hall!’ the butler thundered.

‘I told you I didn’t like her,’ said Piggott, ‘what trespass!’

‘There’s never been a common firegrate in Marble Hall, it’s Briggs himself that does those fireplaces. Never allowed. Not permitted. Out of bounds!’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Sturridge, Mrs Piggott, I didn’t mean –’

‘Ingrate, firegrate, dirty, thieving little vermin!’ shrieked Piggott.

‘Never before! Oh, never before!’ yelled the butler, sweat upon his great forehead. ‘You do not belong there, you, you, in such a place, the very idea makes me crumble like an ancient ruin, you’ve stained the marble! Oh, oh, my foundations are rocked, my buttresses bent, there’s no true plumb line any more. All fall down!’

‘Steady yourself, Olbert, don’t you collapse now, where’s your medicine?’

‘Third floor,’ he gasped, ‘second chamber.’