And she was as good as her word. She talked fluently and with a graphic power of description. Incredible scenes of starvation and misery were painted by her for the benefit of her audience. She spoke of Budapest shortly after the war and traced its vicissitudes to the present day. She was dramatic, but she was also, to Bundle’s mind, a little like a gramophone record. You turned her on, and there you were. Presently, just as suddenly, she would stop.

Lady Coote was thrilled to the marrow⁠—that much was clear. She sat with her mouth slightly open and her large, sad, dark eyes fixed on the Countess. Occasionally, she interpolated a comment of her own.

“One of my cousins had three children burned to death. Awful, wasn’t it?”

The Countess paid no attention. She went on and on. And she finally stopped as suddenly as she had begun.

“There!” she said. “I have told you. We have money⁠—but no organisation. It is organisation we need.”