Bless Cathy Davey. The blonde songstress has the enviable task of warming up the politely seated crowd for Hannon, and she has us nose deep in palm edibles.

With guitar in hand and elasticated knee tambourine like Santa’s merriest of garters, Davey soars through some fine solo numbers sprinkled with imperfections and stop-start moments that make her as endearing as a kitten batting a baby seal with a Labrador puppy.

Hannon, all pipe, bowler and gentlemened to the teeth, totters out to the theme from Mr Benn. His roots are Northern Irish, but he strikes a delectable English gent.

Assume the Perpendicular starts this peculiar gig, followed by The Pop Singer’s Fear of the Pollen Count and the jolly Complete Banker. The Divine Comedy has always been Neil Hannon, but without a backing band, the set-up of solo-piano/solo-guitar takes a little warming to.

But the warming doesn’t take long, helped by Hannon’s utterly charming, self-deprecating rapport with his fans. He could incinerate a helpless granny tonight and we’d forgive him, the wag.

There’s a storming I Like, Becoming More Like Alfie and the “long and boring” The Plough, prior to which Hannon recommends we pop to the bar “but be quiet”.

The highlight is the masterful piece of storytelling in Our Mutual Friend, sending the crowd into such an emotional stupor that Hannon afterward has to remind us that “it’s alright, really”.

Can You Stand Upon One Leg heralds audience participation with a joke about horse concealment, and Tonight We Fly rounds off the standard set, followed by the perfect encore of Jiggery Pokery and The National Express.

And then he’s off again, leather bag overflowing with paper and re-crowned with bowler.

There was an awful lot of comedy tonight, but even more divinity.