But no, not a bit of it. Frankly, until they click and a baby's on the way, they all seem to be at it.
Take this morning's visit to old Liz Endordfield, on the advice of Mrs Maybold. I'll be honest, when I saw her sat there my main ambition was that she'd still be breathing when I left. There's not much of her and what there is seems to be plagued by rheumatics. But she's a wicked sense of humour, and appears to have a reliable set of informers.
So I now hear that the dashing Sergeant Troy, of hanging-around-haymaking and chasing after Bathsheba Everdene fame, has got a young lady in trouble and has her stashed somewhere Melchester way. Although young Fanny Robin is a local girl, young Troy's making sure she's well out of it so as not to queer his pitch with Bathsheba.
I feel something must be done. And I know just who's going to do it.