“Yes. That sounds like you,” Belinda said. She opened her front door and ushered us in. “Florrie,” she called, “I need a bath run straight away.” She turned to look at me. “I’d ask you to sit down but frankly you’d make an awful mess of my sofa. But you can mix her a drink, Paolo. A good strong one.”

“I’m afraid I have to be on my way, cara mia,” Paolo said.

“I will leave you two girls to your gossip. But tonight we will go dancing, sì? Or I take you to Crockford’s for a little gambling, and then to a nightclub if you like.”

“I’d adore it,” Belinda said, “but unfortunately I’m busy this evening.”

“Nonsense,” Paolo said. “Telephone whoever it is and say your long-lost cousin just came into town, or your sister has had a baby, or you’ve come down with chicken pox.”

“I must admit it’s very tempting,” Belinda said. “But I really can’t back out now. The poor dear would be devastated.”

“Another man?” Paolo demanded, eyes flashing.

“Keep your hair on,” Belinda said.

“My hair? What has this to do with my hair?”

Belinda chuckled. “It’s an expression, darling. It means don’t get upset over nothing.”

“These English expressions are very silly,” Paolo said. “Why should I not get upset if you have a date with another man?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I don’t have a date with another man,” Belinda said. “I’m doing my brother a favor and entertaining an old American who wants to buy one of his racehorses.”

“And you could not cancel that for me?” Paolo moved dangerously close to her and ran his fingertips across her cheek. I could see her weakening.

“No, I couldn’t let my brother down,” Belinda said.

“I shall be devastated,” Paolo moaned. “Absolutely bro kenhearted. I shall think that you don’t truly love me.”

Why did men never say things like this to me, I wondered.

“You know, I’ve just had a brilliant idea.” Belinda swiveled around to look at me. “Georgie could go instead of me, couldn’t you, darling?”

“Oh yes,” I said bitterly. “I’m certainly dressed for entertaining visiting Americans.”

“It’s not until eight thirty, darling,” Belinda said, “and you can have a bath here and wear whatever you like from my wardrobe. My maid will help you dress, won’t you, Florrie?” She turned to the maid, who was hovering at the foot of the stairs.

Nobody waited for the maid to reply.

“Splendid,” Paolo said, clapping his hands. “Then I bid you ladies arrivederci and I will call for you at nine, cara mia.”

“Not on your motorcycle, Paolo,” Belinda said. “I refuse to perch on the pillion in my evening togs.”

“Dogs? You wish to bring dogs?”

“Togs, darling. Another word for clothes.”