So, it seems it's a known fault. That's a comfort, though getting rid of the double line would be even more cozy.
I will look at it when the wine,
hooooosed into me by a fellow Ppruner this evening, has been filtered by my beleaguered kidneys . . . or is it liver . . . or kidneys and liver. Whatever, my brain has ceased to be connected to my fingers.
Long live Pprune, I say.
Wibble.