Her stockings always disconcerted him, the pale-yellow stockings and the heavy heavy black shoes. Winifred, who had been playing about the garden with Mademoiselle and the dogs, came flitting towards Gudrun. The child wore a dress of black-and-white stripes. Her hair was rather short, cut round and hanging level in her neck.

‘We’re going to do Bismarck, aren’t we?’ she said, linking her hand through Gudrun’s arm.

‘Yes, we’re going to do Bismarck. Do you want to?’

‘Oh yes-oh I do! I want most awfully to do Bismarck. He looks SO splendid this morning, so FIERCE. He’s almost as big as a lion.’ And the child chuckled sardonically at her own hyperbole. ‘He’s a real king, he really is.’