It was not unlike a peep show. Max Mosley came before MPs to talk about privacy law but then, at odd intervals, he would reveal some titbit about himself and sado-masochism. As the session (with MPs that is) wore on, the titbits got bigger. By the end, Mr Mosley was giving us whole chunks of his life. It was way too much information but, at least, no one left early.

Mr Mosley, 68 and dapper, has a polite way of talking. Everything about him seemed proper as he sat at the table, his hands constantly fluttering over a pristine pad of paper weighted with a Mont Blanc pen. It was hard to reconcile the man before us with the News of the World headline: “F1 Boss Has Sick Nazi Orgy with Five Hookers.” Mr Mosley, who won record privacy damages, denies the Nazi claims but not, of course, the S&M.

An MP helpfully held up the front page for all to see. So did he ever expect to see that? “It was completely out of the blue. I’ve been doing this for 45 years and there has never been a hint. Nobody knew,” he said softly. (I am sure I was not alone in thinking “45 YEARS!”) “Then suddenly I get a phone call at 10am on the Sunday, ‘Have you seen the News of the World?’ ”

He rushed out to get a paper. “It is the most terrible feeling. It’s like someone taking all your goods, all your money. In fact it’s worse. If someone takes away your dignity, you can never replace it. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it. I’m not ashamed, for example, of my bodily functions but I don’t want them on the front page of a newspaper!”

Bodily functions? MPs tried not to flinch. But, said John Whittingdale, chairman of the Culture Media and Sport Committee, you were a public figure. You’d been going to “parties” — Mr Whittingdale’s voice changed as he said this word — for 45 years. Didn’t you think it was a time bomb? “I have to confess that I didn’t,” Mr Mosley said. “If I may call it the S and M world, it’s not even talked about outside the circle. Nobody knew. My closest friends didn’t know. My wife didn’t know. Nobody.”

But surely the more you do something so risky, the more chance of it leaking out? Mr Mosley disagreed. The women involved — known as Women A to E — were desperate to keep everything secret. “They were probably more anxious than I was. They are all terrified of their mums.” He smiled indulgently.

Mr Whittingdale pointed out that one of the women betrayed him. Mr Mosley plunged into a story about how Woman A and Woman E had been friends. “Because I knew Woman A was absolutely trustworthy, I foolishly assumed that I could trust Woman E. I think the problem was that her husband, the MI5 man, put her up to it . . .”

MI5? MPs were relieved when Mr Mosley’s mouth stopped moving. Mr Mosley, who said that he ended up £30,000 out of pocket from his privacy case, is still deciding whether to sue for libel too. He said that he had worked especially hard to establish a good reputation because he came from a “rather unusual” family. I suppose that is one way of saying that your parents (Oswald and Diana) were notorious fascists.

He said, over and over, that he did not want to sue again if he would look like a bully. “I think it’s better to underdo it. I could say the example of my father: I think he overdid it and that stopped people thinking seriously about his ideas.”

So there you have it. Oswald Mosley “overdid it”. Max now took us back to his university days. Was this a committee hearing or therapy? I was relieved, actually, when the peep show ended.

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