I have just interviewed Hannah Rothschild about her new (and first) novel The Improbability of Love in which she imagines a Watteau being discovered in a junk shop, being bought by someone accidentally for £75 and then the search for it and the adventures that ensue in the world of an overheated art market.   She brings to it the knowledge which comes from being both a Rothschild, so a representative of the art-owning aristocracy, and a Trustee of the National Gallery (soon-to-be chairman), but she also brings to the art world occasionally sardonic and definitely comic powers of descriptive invention.