Lord Dorrington took it from the Prince of Wales and then, as if he could not bear to wait for his guest’s comments, His Royal Highness said quickly,

“I saw it today in a shop off Piccadilly. It was pushed into a corner and I don’t know why it attracted my attention. I am convinced that if it was clean we should find it was by a good artist.”

“I am prepared to wager two hundred guineas,” Lord Alvanley said, “that it is just a daub executed by some local artist who then left his creation quite rightly to rot.”

“I agree with you,” the Duke of Rutland remarked. “I pride myself that I have an eye for a picture and for a horse! And I think on this occasion, Sire, you have been misled.”

“All I know is that we have spent a hell of a time talking about this dirty bit of canvas,” Lord Worcester complained. “Why do we not repair to the White House or somewhere else amusing and see some Venuses in the flesh rather than seek them under the dust of ages.”

“How do you know it depicts a Venus?” the Prince of Wales asked rather crossly.

“I thought that there was a suspicion of a naked leg on the left hand side of the picture, Sire,” Lord Worcester replied. “But damn it all you require eyes like a hawk to see through all that dirt.”

The Prince of Wales gave him a disdainful look and turned almost eagerly towards Lord Dorrington.

“Well?” he asked.

“Are you prepared to accept my judgment, Sire?” Lord Dorrington asked.

“Absolutely,” the Prince of Wales said. “In all the years we have known each other, I have never known you to make a mistake. I have not forgotten that you supported me in buying Dutch pictures when everyone else urged me to stick to the Italians.”

“I would agree that we were wrong there,” Lord Yarmouth conceded generously.

“I am glad to hear you admit,” the Prince of Wales said, “that you were at fault. Now I am waiting to hear if Dorrington thinks I have discovered another gem for my collection.”

There was silence.

Lord Dorrington was examining the picture very carefully turning it first one way and then another.

Finally he said slowly, drawling the words,

“I would like to see this in the daylight, Sire. One can often make a mistake by candlelight. Nevertheless I am sure, almost completely sure, that it is a Titian.”

“A Titian!”

The Prince of Wales shouted the words.

“Do you hear that, gentlemen? Once again I have made the right choice! If Dorrington says it’s a Titian, you can damn well wager your shoe strings that it is one.”

“As I have said,” Lord Dorrington continued quietly, “I would like to look at it again in daylight and it will certainly need cleaning very carefully.”