Master Danny bounces in with his plucky Sony – the tenth muse – and asks us to jaw on about Eton. And we did, all forty of us, a brace of bishops, a pair of earls including a former Prime Minister and his brother the playwright, a trumpeter and a couple of chaps in films. And we all said much the same thing – how Eton affected us so. My friend, David Hart, always referred to in the public sheets as ‘the right wing business man’ declined Danny’s invitation to sing, on the grounds that he didn’t like Eton, but ‘My God!’ as we learnt to say after twenty minutes in the place, ‘that’s not the point, is it?’ Besides he’s not a typical Etonian. He had a girl, didn’t he? Although I gather things have changed a bit in that direction . . .

Danziger has only modified one indiscretion from his recordings, that of Derek Malcolm, the film critic.

‘I think the most erotic moment of my life was when this boy everyone fancied, called B . . . , was with this dreadful sleazy fat man called S . . . I