‘Good morning, old boy,’ he said. ‘I’ve had a tremendous slice of luck: at least that is not quite the way to put it, but what I mean is – In fact, I’ve just had a visit from the solicitor of our lamented friend Elizabeth Mapp, God bless her, and he told me the most surprising news. I was monstrously touched by it: hadn’t a notion of it, I assure you.’

‘You don’t mean to say,’ began Georgie.

‘Yes I do. He informed me of the provisions of that dear woman’s will. In memory of our long friendship, these were the very words – and I assure you I was not ashamed to turn away and wipe my eyes, when he told me – in memory of our long friendship she has left me that beautiful Mallards and the sum of ten thousand pounds, which I understand was the bulk of her fortune. What do you think of that?’ he asked, allowing his exultation to get the better of him for the moment.

‘No!’ said Georgie, ‘I congratulate – at least in case –’

‘I know,’ said Major Benjy. ‘If it turns out to be too true that our friends have gone for ever, you’re friendly enough to be glad that what I’ve told you is too true, too. Eh?’

‘Quite, and I’ve had a visit from Mr Causton,’ said Georgie, unable to contain himself any longer, ‘and Lucia’s left me Grebe and eighty thousand pounds.’

‘My word! What a monstrous fortune,’ cried the Major with a spasm of chagrin. ‘I congrat – Anyhow, the same to you. I shall get a motor instead of going to my golf on that measly tram. Then there’s Mallards for me to arrange about. I’m thinking of letting it furnished, servants and all. It’ll be snapped up at ten guineas a week. Why, she got fifteen last summer from the other poor corpse.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ said Georgie. ‘Supposing she came back and found she couldn’t get into her house for another month because you had let it?’

‘God grant she may come back,’ said the Major, without falling dead on the spot. ‘But I see your point: it would be awkward. I’ll think it over. Anyhow, of course, after a proper interval, when the tragedy is proved, I shall go and live there myself. Till then I shall certainly pay the servants’ wages and the upkeep. Rather a drain, but it can’t be helped. Board wages of twelve shillings a week is what I shall give them: they’ll live like fighting cocks on that. By jove, when I think of that terrible sight of the kitchen table lying out there on the beach, it causes me such a sinking still. Have a drink: wonderful pre-war whisky.’