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I BUMPED into a millionaire friend last week. He was wearing a gorgeous coat. I couldn’t help myself and instinctively reached out to feel the fine wool. It was very soft and very expensive. I practically purred.

Every time I see David Begg going into Government Buildings, I can’t help but notice that his coat looks almost as nice as the millionaire’s. Would it pass the purr test? I might find out if I have a moment to pause when I’m in the angry mob tearing that coat from his back before he and his colleagues are perched on the spire with a Plough and the Stars sparing their blushes.