Charlie became aware of Clarissa’s examination and thought how strange it was that people usually did that, as if in search of something they couldn’t understand. Instinctively he started pulling in his stomach and then stopped, annoyed at himself. Bollocks, he thought, relaxing so that the hired suit bulged again. Why should he try to impress her?

‘You’re very different from what I expected,’ she said.

‘Shakespeare probably stuttered,’ said Charlie.

‘What?’ she said, frowning.

‘And disappointed people who expected brilliant conversation,’ said Charlie, laboriously. She would be a difficult woman to live with.

‘I didn’t say I was disappointed,’ she said, coquettishly.

The lift arrived with more guests and she jerked towards it. The ambassador and the princess? Charlie wondered.

‘We must meet again, when there are fewer people. Dinner perhaps,’ she invited, hurrying away.

‘That would be nice,’ said Charlie, aware that she hadn’t heard. She probably hadn’t intended the invitation, either.

Willoughby did not go with her.

‘I’d like us to meet soon, Charlie,’ he said, taking up his wife’s remark.

‘Why?’ asked Charlie. So there was a reason for the invitation, he thought, unoffended.

‘What do you know about stamps?’

‘Nothing,’ said Charlie.

‘We’ve been approached for a rather unusual cover,’ said Willoughby. He looked after the disappearing figure of his wife.

‘Politician in Washington; his wife is a friend of Clarissa’s, actually. They want cover for an exhibition. Value is put at ?3,000,000.’