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It was after 7pm when Cazalet got back to Fairlawne. The Major, who always dressed for dinner, had stopped off in his office on his way to his bath when Jim Fairgrieve rang him from the stable yard and told him about the glamorous Mademoiselle. Cazalet exploded. He had met no such person as this Rosemarie Laumaine, not at Sandown or Kempton or anywhere else and he most certainly hadn't invited her to drop in to the stable whenever she was passing. But he had heard racecourse rumours about an extremely attractive young Frenchwoman who, as he now explained to a mortified Fairgrieve, was to be avoided at all costs.