Rosemarie spotted a £10 note lying in the road, which was nice – though not for us.

The road in question was in Wootton, at the point where the Abingdon-bound number 4 buses perform a reverse turn before proceeding on their way. We were on one of these buses.

Should we get off to collect? The idea was dismissed. It was obvious that the tenner, fluttering invitingly in the breeze, would be in someone else’s pocket long before we got there.

Besides, Rosemarie knows from grim experience that picking up £10 notes can sometimes be a costly experience.

Actually it was notes - two of them - that figured in the cautionary tale I shall now tell, not for the first time, though possibly so in print.

The episode occurred a good few years ago in our neighbourhood of Osney Island. Rosemarie saw the notes - they were folded together and first appeared as one - on the pavement close to the Hollybush pub , whither she was hastening to join me and ‘the gang’ for an early evening pint.

Arriving with the booty in her hand, she found a significant company of pals already gathered and decided to extend their already convivial spirits with an invitation to share in her good fortune. So it was drinks all round, costing even in those days - when £20 went a long way - almost the whole of the sum.

The order was completed and payment about to be made when an absent mate, Roger, appeared on the scene. “I don’t suppose anybody has found two £10 notes in the street . . . ?”

So poor Rosemarie was obliged to hand over the money and [itals] settle the bar bill. She’d have been better off leaving the money where it was . . .