‘People should be more careful how they name their children,’ he ruminated. ‘I’ve got godchildren. I know. Blanche, one of ’em is called – dark as a gypsy! Then there’s Deirdre, Deirdre of the Sorrows – she’s turned out merry as a grig. As for young Patience, she might as well have been named Impatience and be done with it! And Diana – well, Diana –’ the old classical scholar shuddered. ‘Weighs twelve stone now – and she’s only fifteen! They say it’s puppy fat – but it doesn’t look that way to me. Diana! They wanted to call her Helen, but I did put my foot down there. Knowing what her father
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