Dorinda pursued the theme.

“The Wicked Uncle really was an uncommonly bad lot. He used to go off and run riot, and then come back, take anything she’d got, and go off again.”

“There’s a Married Woman’s Property Act. Why did she let him?”

“Well, she told me about that when she was ill. I think she was a bit wandery and didn’t quite know what she was saying, but she meant it all right. She said, ‘Don’t ever get married, Dorinda. It’s just giving a man the power to wring your heart.’ And another time she said, ‘He was bad through and through.’ She asked me if I remembered him. I said I remembered calling him Uncle Glen, and that he had dancing dark eyes, and a round white scar on his wrist. And she said in a dreadfully bitter voice, ‘He had what they call charm. And he’d take anyone’s last drop of blood and their last penny and laugh.’ Then she told me that he’d had all her money except her annuity and the fifty pounds a year she was leaving me. And she said never to let him have a penny of it.”

“He isn’t dead?”

“She didn’t know. And right at the end when she was very wandery she wanted me to promise I’d never marry, but of course I wouldn’t.”

“You can refer the applicants to me.”

“Justin, do you know, I believe you’ve got something there. It really is frightfully difficult for a girl to go on saying no all on her own. I’ve often felt it would be useful to have a stern parent or guardian or someone in the background to say it for you. Would you-really?”

“I would-I will. You can come and watch me if you like. I feel I’m going to be good at it. Are you going to have ice pudding?”

Dorinda looked at him reproachfully.

“Of course I am! Justin, it’s a lovely dinner!”

“Enjoy it, my child. And now listen. I’ve been finding out about your Oakleys. He made a lot of money in the war. Theoretically the Excess Profits Tax made this impossible. Actually quite a lot of people did it. Martin Oakley is one of them.”