What you’re looking at is about the size of East Sussex, is ridiculously opulent, luxurious and indulgent, and would have cost £230,000 in 1997.

It is also powerful, capable and mechanically competent, having had over £10,000 spent on all manner of repairs, servicing, fettling and tweaking.

We have driven the car and can attest that it goes about its stately business with a degree of smoothness you’d be hard pressed to find in any other contemporary car.

It glides and shimmies over pot-holes, protrusions and (probably) peasants with all the poise and grace of a lightly Brylcreemed panther.

When asked, it presses on with entirely improbable urge and enthusiasm for one so large and heavy.

One minute it’s Cary Grant, wearing monogrammed silk pyjamas and drinking a cocktail.

The next it’s got a towel round its neck and is punching sides of beef in a Bronx cold store.

The car had a new speedo courtesy of Jack Barclay when the clock was showing 8,000 miles, so we know that the total m...