The Card Room seems to speak of a thousand games of whist and bridge and the Gold Room, especially as the westering sun burnishes its teak ceiling, is the ideal place for a pre-dinner sherry.
Sherry, wine and port flow like the Isis, with facts, anecdotes, bons mots and sparkling insights swirling past in a bewildering but entertaining array.
Bottles of sherry for the Assistant Secretaries, large boxes of House of Commons mints for the Diary Secretary and the Correspondence Secretary and small boxes of House of Commons mints for the rest.
After dinner, we watched a rerun of Rockford Files, and then she opened a bottle of, uh, cream sherry, and the next thing I know, she was tucking me into your bed.