‘Enchanted.’

He was a slight man with a domed forehead, a big nose and bulging eyes that observed the world through thick horn-rimmed spectacles, like a harried headmaster. She led the way to the drawing room where Stephen waited for them.

‘I listened to your ballet, Le Renard, on the radio,’ Stephen said, once the men had been introduced. ‘I found it altogether wonderful and brave.’

Stravinsky waved his words away, protesting that Stephen was too kind, but he looked delighted. They began to talk about Stravinsky’s move to neoclassicism and the challenges of a musical evolution that was unpopular with the public.

‘People go to concerts wanting to be enticed and captivated,’ said Stravinsky. ‘They don’t want to be tested. The ear is offended by dissonance.’

‘You must stick to what you are doing,’ Stephen told him. ‘Your work is a rejection of sentimentality and insipid taste.’

Stravinsky was smiling broadly. ‘It’s not often that I have the pleasure of talking to someone who understands.’

Ginie was awash with relief and a deep gratitude to Stephen. It looked as though the evening might be interesting, after all. Olivia Stuart sailed into the room, arms outstretched, her large dark eyes shining. Her husband, George – a short, compact man with sandy hair and blunt features – was a few paces behind.

‘Horrid old evening, isn’t it?’ Olivia exclaimed, kissing Stephen and then Ginie.

‘I couldn’t see more than a foot in front of my own nose. We missed a bus by inches on Park Lane.’

The Courtaulds introduced Olivia and George to Stravinsky and he bowed stiffly to right and left. Edward and Violet Doyle arrived moments later. Both were slender and graceful, with pale complexions and blue eyes. They looked more like brother and sister than husband and wife. Stephen opened a bottle of champagne and they drank to each other’s health. Stravinsky wouldn’t have any champagne because he was performing at a concert after dinner. The programme included his Concerto for Piano and Wind Instruments, he explained, and he was going to play the piano part himself.

Ginie sat on the sofa with Olivia and Violet, who began to tease each other good-naturedly about Violet’s new hairstyle (a smooth, sculpted bob that accentuated her graceful neck and large eyes) and Olivia’s lateness to a lunch party the previous week. Ginie listened without trying to join in. She understood that their teasing was a way of finding out what the other one had been up to without asking directly. Ginie was learning that upper-class English speech was like code – the words used often meant something else. Violet and Olivia established that they were both going to Hugh Henry’s advertisement party. The Courtaulds hadn’t been invited.