‘English tea.’ Toni gave instructions to the waiter, who nodded solemnly, evidently familiar with this peculiarity among his customers.

The tea was excellent, so were the cakes, which the others piled onto her plate.

‘When did you last eat?’ Hope asked.

‘Properly? Oh-some time. I left on the spur of the moment, caught the train from London to Paris, then Paris to Milan. I don’t like flying, and I wanted to be free to stop and explore whenever I wanted. I had a few days in Milan, shopping and seeing the sights. I meant to stay there overnight and go on tomorrow, but I suddenly changed my mind, packed up and ran.’

‘That’s the way to live!’ Dante exclaimed. ‘Here today, gone tomorrow; let life bring what it will.’ He took Ferne’s hand and spoke with theatrical fervour. ‘Signorina, you are a woman after my own heart. More than a woman-a goddess with a unique understanding of life. I salute you-why are you laughing?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ferne choked. ‘I can’t listen to that guff with a straight face.’

‘Guff? Guff? Is this a new English word?’

‘No,’ Hope informed him, amused. ‘It’s an old English word and it means that you need a better scriptwriter.’

‘But only for me,’ Ferne chuckled. ‘I expect it works wonderfully on the others.’

Dante’s face was the picture of outrage.

‘The others? Don’t you realise that you are the only one who has inspired me to lay my heart at her feet? The only-Oh, all right; I usually get a better reception than this.’

His collapse into realism made them all laugh.

‘It’s nice to meet a lady with such an adventurous approach to life,’ he added. ‘But I expect it’s only while you’re on holiday. You’ll go back to England, your sedate nine-to-five life, and your sedate nine-to-five fiancé.’