“Who’s coming to this party, Bill? Is it anything very special?”

“Only the usual sort of muck. Mrs. Macatta for one.”

“The M.P. ?”

“Yes, you know, always going off the deep end about Welfare and Pure Milk and Save the Children. Think of poor Jimmy being talked to by her.”

“Never mind Jimmy. Go on telling me.”

“Then there’s a Hungarian, what they call a Young Hungarian. Countess something unpronounceable. She’s all right.”

He swallowed as though embarrassed, and Bundle observed that he was crumbling his bread nervously.