‘Your hearing should be exceptionally sharp then.’

‘It isn’t. That’s a popular myth… Thank you,’ she said as her nephew struck a match for her. ‘So glad you are a smoker, Hughie. Makes such a difference. Can’t stand it when Peverel looks down his nose each time I light up. What a self-righteous bore he is. Won’t you join me? Where’s that fragrant pipe of yours?’

Payne obligingly produced his pipe and started filling it out of his pouch. His aunt nodded in an approving manner. ‘Now the idea of Maitre Maginot doesn’t seem so repellent. I can see how people turn to drugs – can you?’ She blew smoke out of her nostrils. ‘Mr Jonson described Maitre Maginot as a femme formidable. Don’t you think it tiresome when people pepper their speech with frog?’

‘Terribly tiresome,’ Payne agreed. ‘Apart from being de trop. Unless they are French, that is. Then they can’t help it.’

‘From the way he pontificated, Jonson put me in mind of some sort of superior public schoolmaster – or a family solicitor. You know the type. Dry as a biscuit – omniscient godlike manner – the most annoying little cough. Absolute utter drears. I hope he won’t overstay his welcome. He said he wanted to look around. Does he imagine he might find Corinne’s madman at Chalfont, skulking behind an arras, clutching a knife? D’you think he suspects me of some sort of collusion?’

‘Well, he might have got it into his head the madman is your secret lover,’ Payne said. ‘Gentlewomen of a certain age are notorious for that sort of thing.’