‘Great heavens!’ was the only expletive he could allow himself in the presence of a child and he felt it didn’t go far towards expressing his astonishment.

Excitedly, Dorcas took possession again. ‘Bloody hell!’ she said. ‘Who on earth writes this nonsense? Just listen to this!’ She read out: ‘“In the turbulent wake of broken engagements, disaster and family loss on both sides, the happy couple announce they are putting the years of unhappiness behind them and, after a whirlwind romance, are to be married in the autumn. They will start their new life together in the groom’s ancestral estates in Norfolk. On the death of his grandfather the Earl of Brancaster last week, Sir Montagu Mathurin inherited the title and much else. The ring . . .” Look, Joe, you can just make it out. “. . . is a rose diamond set in platinum and was bought for the bride-to-be at Asprey’s.” Asprey’s! Huh! They’ll need the “much else” if the bride has such expensive tastes. Will you be sending them a wedding present, Joe?’

‘I don’t think they’ll be expecting one from me. But why not? Yes! I’ll send them a barrel of oysters from Wheeler’s. That should strike the right note. Wonder if she’ll remember?’

‘Oysters? Are you sure? Well! And there I was, thinking she was your sergeant’s bit of fluff!’

‘Not very ladylike language, Dorcas,’ Joe said automatically. ‘Good God! I mean – well, well! As you say! To tell the truth, I think my sergeant was fond of her, but I’ll tell you something else, child. He’s had a lucky escape. She wasn’t the girl for him! Though, come to think of it – she may be exactly the girl for Mathurin.’