"I'm not sure about it," he said. "They'll just leave the country." I nodded noncommittally, accepted another glass of Pol Roger and reflected on the wisdom of keeping in touch with grass-roots opinion.

Downstairs in the lobby, the heaving mass of activists seemed more or less happy with the emerging traditional-Tory tinge to the new policy being churned out so fast it was hard to keep up. Everyone says they're keen to fight an autumn election - I believe almost none of them.

David Davis, the shadow home secretary who tried and failed to beat David Cameron to the leadership two years ago, told me the party was "driving towards the sound of gunfire". A local councillor, Victoria Ayling, was even more warlike: "We're ready for a fight. We're going to win." My mind wanders and for some reason I decide to watch my favourite movie on DVD when I get home: Zulu.

All around me, MPs and activists seem upbeat. Even perky. With the polls uniformly dire and an election possibly weeks away, the sense seems to have taken hold that panic and backbiting is a luxury the Conservatives simply cannot afford.

Just now, it's a fair bet that the party will remain pretty much united and on-message all week. Still, from a party manager's point of view, unity under pressure is still unity.

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A breakfast meeting with America's former ambassador to the UN, John Bolton, was fascinating.

He's touring the conference, making the case for a military strike against Iranian nuclear installations. He adds nostalgically, "We used to be good at clandestine regime-change".

Someone pipes up, "Could you try it here?" Everyone laughs, though for a moment it seems as if one or two Conservatives at the breakfast are looking at him a little pleadingly.