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In the late stages of the Second World War, Evelyn Waugh was trapped in the company of Randolph Churchill, the boorish son of the wartime Prime Minister. In the hope of keeping him quiet,” he wrote to Nancy Mitford, “Freddie and I bet him £20 that he cannot read the whole bible in a fortnight. Unhappily it has not had the result we hoped. He has never read any of it before and is hideously excited; keeps reading quotations aloud…or merely slapping his side and chortling ‘God, isn’t God a shit!’.”