‘My dear lady, I can assure you that when it comes to a question of a beautiful young woman, I should have no influence over your son whatever. He–er–seems to be of a very susceptible nature.’

‘He never used to be,’ said Mrs Chester tearfully.

‘Well,’ said Mr Parker Pyne with an attempt at cheerfulness, ‘this new attraction seems to have broken the back of his infatuation for Miss Gregg. That must be some satisfaction to you.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Mrs Chester. ‘Betty is a dear child and devoted to Basil. She is behaving extremely well over this. I think my boy must be mad.’

Mr Parker Pyne received this startling change of face without wincing. He had met inconsistency in women before. He said mildly:

‘Not exactly mad–just bewitched.’

‘The creature’s a Dago. She’s impossible.’

‘But extremely good-looking.’

Mrs Chester snorted.

Basil ran up the steps from the sea front.

‘Hullo, Mater, here I am. Where’s Betty?’

‘Betty’s gone home with a headache. I don’t wonder.’

‘Sulking, you mean.’

‘I consider, Basil, that you are being extremely unkind to Betty.’

‘For God’s sake, Mother, don’t jaw. If Betty is going to make this fuss every time I speak to another girl a nice sort of life we’ll lead together.’

‘You are engaged.’

‘Oh, we’re engaged all right. That doesn’t mean that we’re not going to have any friends of our own. Nowadays people have to lead their own lives and try to cut out jealousy.’

He paused.

‘Look here, if Betty isn’t going to dine with us–I think I’ll go back to the Mariposa. They did ask me to dine…’

‘Oh, Basil–’

The boy gave her an exasperated look, then ran off down the steps.

Mrs Chester looked eloquently at Mr Parker Pyne.

‘You see,’ she said.

He saw.

Matters came to a head a couple of days later. Betty and Basil were to have gone for a long walk, taking a picnic lunch with them. Betty arrived at the Pino d’Oro to find that Basil had forgotten the plan and gone over to Formentor for the day with Dolores Ramona’s party.

Beyond a tightening of the lips the girl made no sign. Presently, however, she got up and stood in front of Mrs Chester (the two women were alone on the terrace).

‘It’s quite all right,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter. But I think–all the same–that we’d better call the whole thing off.’

She slipped from her finger the signet ring that Basil had given her–he would buy the real engagement ring later.

‘Will you give him back this Mrs Chester? And tell him it’s all right–not to worry…’

‘Betty dear, don’t! He does love you–really.’