That experience made itself felt when Tony Blair tried to take us into the euro. He launched a mighty campaign, he made several false starts, received opinion was behind him — but he had promised a referendum, and he could never expect to call one and win it. Memories of Black Wednesday argued too strongly against him.

It is odd, all the same, that the opinion-formers all fell into line — the BBC, the Financial Times and the Economist, the big boardrooms (though the City dissented) and a thick cross-section of the political leadership. For those whose opinion differed they had harsh words: "A menagerie of has-beens, never-have-beens and looney tunes." I missed the worst of this barrage, and was written off as someone who could not recognise the inevitable when he saw it coming. 

I could certainly see that the test of the euro would come in hard times, when the bubbles burst. Crowds might then form in the streets, and would resent being told that they must take their orders from Brussels and Frankfurt. The euro, I thought, would be vulnerable to a run on the banks of its weakest country. A central banker corrected me: the strongest country would get tired of paying. Perhaps we were both right. Alice felt certain that the Emu's caucus race would end where it began: in tears.