Macbeth, in particular, made a splendid advance. He gained in stature. His nightmarish descent into horror and blind, idiotic killing was exactly what Peregrine asked of him. Maggie, after they had worked at their scenes, said to him: ‘Dougal, you are playing like the devil possessed. I didn’t know you had it in you.’ He thought for a moment and then said: ‘To tell you the truth, nor did I.’ And burst out laughing. ‘Unlucky in love, lucky in war,’ he said. ‘Something like that, eh, Maggie?’

‘Something like that,’ she agreed lightly.

‘I suppose,’ he said, turning to Peregrine, ‘it is absolutely necessary to have Marley’s Ghost haunting me? What’s he meant to signify?’

‘Marley’s Ghost?’

‘Well – whoever he is. Seyton. Gaston Sears. What’s he meant to be, silly old fool?’

‘Fate.’

‘Come off it. You’re being indulgent.’

‘I honestly don’t think so. I think he’s valid. He’s not intrusive, Dougal. He’s just – there.’

Sir Dougal said: ‘That’s what I mean,’ and drew himself up, holding his claymore in front of him. ‘His tummy rumbles are positively deafening,’ he said. ‘Gurgle, gurgle. Rumble. Crash. A one-man band. One can hardly hear oneself speak.’

‘Nonsense,’ Peregrine said, and laughed. Maggie laughed with him. ‘You’re very naughty,’ she said to Dougal.

‘You’ve heard him, Maggie. In the banquet scene. Standing up by your throne rumbling away. You do know he’s a bit off-pitch in the upper register, Perry, don’t you?’ He touched his own head.

‘You’re simply repeating a piece of stage gossip. Stop it.’

‘Barrabell told me.’

‘And who told him? And what about your fight?’ Peregrine made a wide gesture and swept his notes to the floor. ‘Damn,’ he said. ‘Nothing dotty about that, is there?’

‘We’d have been just as good if we’d faked it,’ Dougal muttered.

‘No, you wouldn’t and you know it.’

‘Oh well. But he does rumble. Admit.’

‘I haven’t heard him.’

‘Come on, Maggie. I’m wasting my time with this chap,’ Dougal said cheerfully. Peregrine heard the stage door shut behind them.

He had begun painfully to pick up pages of the notes he had dropped when he heard someone come on stage and cross it. He tried to get up but the movement caught him. By the time he had hauled himself up the door had opened and closed and he never saw who had crossed the stage and gone out of the theatre.