Mrs Backwoodsperson loves it. I think it’s not so good (apart from the delicious Eleanor Tomlinson, for whom I would forsake my pension if she asked it of me!).

There seems to be far more - and far too much - ‘going on’ in the BBC production, when compared with the book, although that could simply be my old brain mis-remembering. And I always feel uncomfortable when movie-images clash with my own mental images derived from reading the book.

Or maybe I’m just becoming an old curmudgeon.