‘And ten. Allotted span, though that’s all my eye. See the rest of you out tonight, my boy.’ He leant forward and looked dolefully at Alleyn with unfocused eyes. ‘I say,’ he said. ‘She’s not going on, is she?’

‘Who?’

‘Old Bracegirdle.’

‘I believe so.’

‘Gawd!’

‘It’s pretty steep,’ Alleyn suggested. ‘Fifteen thousand lire.’

‘Better be good, what? I’m full of hopes,’ leered the Major. ‘And I don’t mind telling you, old boy, I wouldn’t have been within coo-ee of this show tonight in the orinry way. You know what? Flutter. Green baize. Monte. And—phew!’ He made a wild gesture with both arms. ‘Thas-sall:—phew!’

‘A big win?’

‘Phew!’

‘Splendid.’

And that, Alleyn supposed, explained the Major. Or did it?

‘Funny thing about Mailer, don’t you think?’ he asked.

‘Phew!’ said the Major, who seemed to be stuck with this ejaculation. “Strordinary conduct,’ he added. ‘Conduct unbecoming if you ask me, but let it go.’ He slumped into a moody silence for some moments and then shouted so loudly that people at the neighbouring table stared at him: ‘Bloody good riddance. ‘Scuse language.’

After this he seemed disinclined for conversation and Alleyn joined Kenneth Dorne.

With the departure of the soul-singer, Kenneth had slumped back into what seemed to be chronic inertia interrupted by fidgets. He made no attempt to dance but fiddled with his shirt ruffles and repeatedly looked towards the entrance as if he expected some new arrival. He gave Alleyn one of his restless, speculative glances. ‘You look marvellous,’ he said. ‘Are you having a gay time?’

‘An interesting time, at least. This sort of thing is quite out of my line. It’s an experience.’

‘Oh!’ Kenneth said impatiently. ‘This!’ He shuffled his feet about. ‘I thought you were terrific,’ he said. ‘You know. The way you managed everybody after Seb vanished. Look. Do you think he’s—you know—I mean to say—what do you think?’

‘I’ve no notion,’ Alleyn said. ‘I’ve never set eyes on the man before. You seem to be quite friendly with him.’

‘Me?’

‘You call him Seb, don’t you?’

‘Oh well. You know. Just one of those things. Why not?’

‘You find him helpful, perhaps.’

‘How d’you mean?’ Kenneth said, eyeing him.

‘In Rome. I rather hoped—I may be quite wrong, of course.’ Alleyn broke off. ‘Are you going on to this late party?’ he asked.

‘Of course. And I don’t care how soon.’

‘Really?’ Alleyn said. And hoping he introduced the jargon correctly and with the right inflection, he asked, ‘May one expect to meet “a scene”?’

Kenneth swept his hair from his eyes with a fingertip.

‘What sort of a scene?’ he said cautiously.

‘A group—a—have I got it wrong? I’m not turned on—is that right?—as yet. I want to “experience”. You know?’