‘Betty’s being damned difficult! If she’d just conform a bit–I mean leave off the lipstick for a day–it might make all the difference. She seems to go out of her way to be–well–modern–when Mother’s about.’

Mr Parker Pyne smiled.

‘Betty and Mother are two of the dearest people in the world, I should have thought they would have taken to each other like hot cakes.’

‘You have a lot to learn, young man,’ said Mr Parker Pyne.

‘I wish you’d come along and see Betty and have a good talk about it all.’

Mr Parker Pyne accepted the invitation readily.

Betty and her sister and her husband lived in a small dilapidated villa a little way back from the sea. Their life was of a refreshing simplicity. Their furniture comprised three chairs, a table and beds. There was a cupboard in the wall that held the bare requirements of cups and plates. Hans was an excitable young man with wild blond hair that stood up all over his head. He spoke very odd English with incredible rapidity, walking up and down as he did so. Stella, his wife, was small and fair. Betty Gregg had red hair and freckles and a mischievous eye. She was, he noticed, not nearly so made-up as she had been the previous day at the Pino d’Oro.

She gave him a cocktail and said with a twinkle:

‘You’re in on the big bust-up?’

Mr Parker Pyne nodded.

‘And whose side are you on, big boy? The young lovers–or the disapproving dame?’

‘May I ask you a question?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Have you been very tactful over all this?’

‘Not at all,’ said Miss Gregg frankly. ‘But the old cat put my back up.’ (She glanced round to make sure that Basil was out of earshot) ‘That woman just makes me feel mad. She’s kept Basil tied to her apron strings all these years–that sort of thing makes a man look a fool. Basil isn’t a fool really. Then she’s so terribly pukka sahib.’

‘That’s not really such a bad thing. It’s merely “unfashionable” just at present.’

Betty Gregg gave a sudden twinkle.

‘You mean it’s like putting Chippendale chairs in the attic in Victorian days? Later you get them down again and say, “Aren’t they marvellous?”’

‘Something of the kind.’

Betty Gregg considered.

‘Perhaps you’re right. I’ll be honest. It was Basil who put my back up–being so anxious about what impression I’d make on his mother. It drove me to extremes. Even now I believe he might give me up–if his mother worked on him good and hard.’

‘He might,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘If she went about it the right way.’