‘Well, I do think that’s mean of him,’ said Diva. ‘He ought anyhow to bear some part of the expense, considering everything. Instead of which he buys a motor car which he can’t drive. Go on about the cenotaph.’

‘I saw it down at the stonemason’s yard,’ said Georgie, ‘and that put the idea into my head. Beautiful white marble on the lines, though of course much smaller, of the one in London. It had been ordered, I found, as a tombstone, but then the man who ordered it went bankrupt, and it was on the stonemason’s hands.’

‘I’ve heard about it,’ said Mrs Bartlett, in rather a superior voice. ‘Kenneth told me you’d told him, and we both think that it’s a lovely idea.’

‘The stonemason ought to let you have it cheap then,’ said Diva.

‘It wasn’t very cheap,’ said Georgie, ‘but I’ve bought it, and they’ll put it in its place today, just outside the south transept, and the Padre is going to dedicate it. Then there’s the inscription. I shall have in loving memory of them, by me, and a bit of the Padre’s text at the memorial service. Just “In death they were not divided.”’

‘Quite right. Don’t put in about the eagles and the lions,’ said Diva.

‘No, I thought I would leave that out. Though I like that part,’ said Georgie for the sake of Mrs Bartlett.

‘Talking of whisky,’ said Diva, flying back, as her manner was, to a remote allusion, ‘Major Benjy’s finished all the pre-war whisky that Lucia gave him. At least I heard him ordering some more yesterday. Oh, and there’s the notice of his sale. Old English furniture – yes, that may mean two things, and I know which of them it is. Valuable works of Art. Well I never! A print of the “Monarch of the Glen” and a photograph of the “Soul’s Awakening”. Rubbish! Fine tiger-skins! The skins may be all right, but they’re bald.’

‘My dear, how severe you are,’ said Georgie. ‘Now I must go and see how they’re getting on with the inscription. Au reservoir.’

Diva nodded at Evie Bartlett.

‘Nice to hear that again,’ she said. ‘I’ve not heard it – well, since.’