To the House of Lords to hear the old stiffs debate the Starmerite 're-set' with the European Union. A thicket of grey, bushy eyebrow here, a tremulous claw there. And barely a mention of democracy.
Classic last PMQs before a by-election: rancour, raspberries, general dudgeon. Sir Keir Starmer was super-miffed at all his assailants, clawing right and left, Mr Indignant on a pogo stick.
Scary Bridget came to the Commons to present her expensive, complicated reforms to the mad world of special needs teaching. Then a terrifying thing happened: she cracked a hesitant, unfamiliar smile.
Molto panico in Downing Street yesterday. Wickets were falling. Master strategists were gobbling cyanide pills. Aides scurred right and left and further left, white-faced, trousers flapping.
Everything had been planned beautifully. Mr Sarwar was so proud of his plot that he let the Press know beforehand and even telephoned his 'friend' Sir Keir to tell him what he was going to do
Through the whistling stillness came Kemi's insistent interrogations. She was cool, shimmeringly superior. For a third time: did the official vetting of Mandelson disclose the Epstein dirt?