“One elder brother. And you?”

“One elder sister. That’s where they’ve gone this evening. Usually we all go down to Pettinge, but this year she can’t because the baby’s too young, so they were taking over the Christmas presents.”

“First baby? How old?”

“Two months.”

The tone of her voice made him look sharply at her.

“You’re not fond of babies?” he asked.

“They’re all right, in moderation. Actually he’s rather sweet. But it makes me tired, the way people go on about it.”

“Who do? Your parents?”

“Yes. And everyone.”

Neither of them spoke for a while.

“I love this car,” said Stephanie, eventually. “You are lucky.”

“Your father has a car, I think you said.”

“Not what I call a car. A family saloon. Oh, boredom, boredom! Boredom ineffable!”

“There’s a big word,” murmured Brett, swinging into the forecourt of Charing Cross. “Poor father. That’s a nice coat he bought you, all the same.” He slid the car up to the kerb. “Well, I’m sorry you didn’t see my wife. But perhaps it’s just as well she was out. Can you think why I bought that cameo?”

“To give to her, I suppose.”

“Yes, as a Christmas present. But if she’d heard you talking about Majendie’s and brooches and dropped gloves she wouldn’t have had much of a surprise on Christmas morning.”

“I never thought,” said Stephanie, looking very chastened. “I suppose it was really rather off, the whole thing. I’m sorry.” She paused. “But would you mind terribly not saying anything about it to Mr. Emmanuel?”

“Why on earth should I say anything to him? I doubt if I’ll ever speak to him again.”

“I thought he must be a friend of yours,” she said, surprised.

“Why?”

“Because he knocked thirty-five pounds off that cameo for you.”

Brett felt as if he’d stepped down a kerb in a dozing dream and had jerked awake. “What?” he said, stupidly.

“Well, of course, I know prices are often altered for special people, so I didn’t think anything of it. I only happened to know the real value because I’d been dusting the office while the consignment was sorted. That’s how I knew where to look for it too. Is anything the matter?”

He shook his head.

“Are you all right?” Her voice had risen in pitch, and trembled slightly.

He heard the unmistakable note of alarm, and pulled himself together. He must look as ghastly as he felt, and he had always condemned people who in their full age plucked the nerves of the impressionable young by uncontrolled displays of emotional or other distress.

“Yes, quite all right, thank you,” he said, “just rather taken by surprise. What about your train?”

“There’s one in four minutes.”

“Good. Out you get then.”