As if Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Ernest Shackleton and the Woolworths weren't enough, fast Harry's got something of a Royal appointment this evening. Well, he could hardly go out without a bang now could he? We're waving goodbye to Selfridges this eve (Series 2 has been ordered already, don't panic) with all of the usual drama. Harry's caught out slipping into the bed in the wee hours, and when the King wants to take himself and Mae to a play, their marriage really hits the rocks. Sure isn't it Ellen Love's satire, mocking the pair of 'em?