In order to be able to process some detail of his financial affairs, Dalrymple finds himself having to deal with one of the sprawling, impersonal, inefficient and unresponsive banking bureaucracies, one of those that
has repeatedly been forced to admit that it has engaged on huge-scale dishonesty that has cost it billions in fines and reparations (though I am not quite sure how much faith as to their sincerity or justification I should place in such admissions).
The bank demands — using in its communications always the passive voice — that Dalrymple, a mere writer (rather than, say, a trader specialising in interbank lending rates), ‘confirm the source of funds which have been deposited’ in his account.
