He would write to Shaw, that was what he would do (turning his mind resolutely from thoughts of that cosy sequestered scene), after supper at the inn he would write a long letter to his friend the famous playwright George Bernard Shaw, outlining the details of his new scheme and telling him at the same time – for he would be interested to know – how extraordinarily well his woollen Jaeger rational underwear had served him on his walk. His mind already turning over the pleasant phrases of his description, he swung on down the road towards the lights of the inn.

Cicely, dressed for dinner, was sitting in front of the mirror so that Ellen her maid, who was also Flo Page’s elder sister, might pin up her hair.

‘It slips out so, doesn’t it? Especially when it’s just been washed.’

‘I’m getting better at it, Miss. I’m using these very long pins right at the back. They were all right last night, weren’t they?’

‘There were wisps after dinner, I know. I was tucking them in all the time I was talking to Count Rakassyi.’

‘I know it was all right at dinner. I particularly asked John when he came out after the fish and he said it was looking lovely. I hope you don’t mind him saying so, Miss. I mean it was only to cheer me up, me being a bit anxious.’

‘You mean you hang about outside the dining room to ask the footmen if my hair’s come down? Oh Ellen, I’m sure that’s not what proper lady’s maids do.’

‘I don’t always do it. Just sometimes, when I’m extra worried. It was Hortense, you see, she showed me how to use these long pins and I wasn’t sure if I could do it as well as she does.’

Cicely crouched down on her stool so as to be low enough to catch Ellen’s reflection in the mirror.

‘Who ever is Hortense?’

‘Oh dear, I’ve lost that bit now. I’ll have to start again.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s because you’re so tall. I can’t see your face to talk to. Couldn’t you sit down or something?’

When they had re-arranged themselves to their own satisfaction Ellen, who was indeed nearly six foot tall and quite extraordinarily angular and energetic, explained that Hortense was Lady Hartlip’s French maid.

‘The things she can tell you, just about ironing. I could never be as good as that.’

‘Is she a frightful flirt? French maids in plays always are.’

‘She has a funny manner, that I will say. I thought we were all very friendly yesterday afternoon when we had our time off and she was showing me how to use these pins, but the way she was talking to John this morning you wouldn’t think she was my friend at all. I hardly knew where to look. He just stood there grinning. I could have killed him. And the way she talks about Lady Hartlip, I wouldn’t do that. I mean, of course, we all gossip and we all know some people are nicer to work for than others but someone like that, I mean, she could work for anyone I should think, the positions she’s had. She wouldn’t have any need to work for someone she didn’t like. I couldn’t tell you some of the things she said, Miss, I couldn’t really.’