‘No, but we’re going to,’ said girlie. ‘A new hanging committee, you see, full of pep and pop and vim. Haven’t they asked you to send them something… Of course the space at their disposal is very limited.’

Mapp laughed, but not with any great exuberance. This undertow was tweaking at her disagreeably.

‘That’s news to me,’ she said. ‘Most enterprising of Mr Wyse and dear Susan.’

‘Sweet Lulu’s idea,’ said Irene. ‘As soon as you sent in your resignation, of course they asked her to be President.’

‘That is nice for her,’ said Mapp enthusiastically. ‘She will like that. I must get to work on some little picky to send them.’

‘There’s that one you did from the church tower when Lucia had influenza,’ said this awful Irene. ‘That would be nice… Oh, I forgot. Stupid of me. It’s by invitation: the committee are asking a few people to send pickies. No doubt they’ll beg you for one. Such a good plan. There won’t be any mistakes in the future about rejecting what is sent in.’

Mapp gave a gulp but rallied.

‘I see. They’ll be all Academicians together, and be hung on the line,’ said she unflinchingly.

‘Yes. On the line or be put on easels,’ said Irene. ‘Curse the light! It’s fading. I must pack up. Hold these brushes, will you?’

‘And then we’ll walk back home together, shall we? A cup of tea with me, dear?’ asked Mapp, anxious to conciliate and to know more.

‘I’m going into Lucia’s, I’m afraid. Wyses tummin’ to play bridgey and hold a committee meeting,’ said Irene.

‘You are a cruel thing to imitate poor Lulu,’ said Mapp. ‘How well you’ve caught that silly baby-talk of hers. Just her voice. Bye-bye.’

‘Same to you,’ said Irene.