What a delight, on a wet Saturday night, to turn left by the antiseptic glow of the Ladbrokes sign on Clarence Square, tiptoe down the tiled alleyway to the Brighton Little, and find yourself cocooned against the elements in its intimate 100-seat studio space, all red velvet and anticipation.

This Valentine’s weekend saw Letters Of Love, where an ensemble of monologues revealed to an engaged audience, words which men and women of international renown - and of no renown at all - had penned on the subject of love.

Intimate and dispassionate, paternal and fraternal, unrequited and unequivocal; a dozen forms of love were explored and celebrated here by a strong cast who did well to immerse the room in the feelings of a stranger, from a standing start and with no dualogue to bounce off.

There were strong performances from Joseph Bentley as a jitteringly-loved-up expectant father – children’s author E B White, writing to his wife as his dog - and by Maximus Polling’s Brian Keith, writing to his GI-boyfriend Dave after finding love unexpectedly in the sands of North Africa.

Frank McHugh brought to life both Dylan Thomas, pining almost mawkishly for Caitlin from a lonely hotel room, and the deep gravitas and fealty of a Union soldier's last letter home to his wife, written but not sent before the First Battle Of Bull Run.

But Dee Forrest was in danger of stealing the show with a spot-on Katherine Hepburn missing her “Spence” terribly, a belly-laugh funny Caitlin Moran’s life lessons for her daughter, and a knowingly seductive lounge-singer solo as the curtain came down.

Four stars