It’s still there. That kink in the psyche of so many France teams over the years, a niggle that has kept them from joining the very best sides in history, despite all the talent, despite the heritage. It has cost them World Cups, it has cost them championships.

Here they failed to land the telling blow time and again, despite the sword in their hand hovering over exposed flesh. How to tear open a side, how to contrive ways of not scoring. The inventiveness of this side with ball in hand was matched only by the imagination with which they managed to let go of it.

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In the history of rugby, it is the English who have always driven the French to distraction more than any other. With perhaps the exception of themselves. There was little doubt before this contest over which was the more talented side. The bookies had it only one way, as did pretty much everyone in the stadium, whatever their persuasion.

Happily, sport is not decided by talent alone. France knew they could outplay England, and for vast swathes of the match did just that, but nerve is as important. These resolute yeomen in white are exactly the kind to push French temperaments to the limit.

But was it even that? England stayed in the contest, playing with an energy to the very end that has been lacking so obviously in them of late. Tom Curry, in particular, is just the man, spiking the French time and again, and playing no little rugby with ball in hand himself. And then in Fin Smith England have unearthed a playmaker of true class.

All fine players, more than capable of asking searching questions of the very best. But they are not the very best yet. The question is, are France, so replete with players who have been lauded as just that, ever going to make the transition to true greatness?

They toyed with England for so much of this match. The problem did not look so much one of nerve but of complacency. Only when the complacency had cost them so many early points did they leave enough of a target for England to aim at. The home team proved unafraid to go for it. Come the end, it was they who won the match rather than France who lost it.

That they were level at half-time was remarkable and owed itself to an extraordinary looseness from France. If you were asked to pick the two most skilful players in the world these days, for example, your answer would not stray very far from Antoine Dupont and Damian Penaud. And yet both would spill the ball with the try-line at their mercy inside the first half-hour. Penaud did it twice. Perhaps the try-line was not quite at his mercy, but on the second occasion if he had not made it he enjoyed the luxury of Thomas Ramos and Louis Bielle-Biarrey outside him.

That first half-hour was an extraordinary display of casual brilliance and carelessness. If there is a curse on the player who operates at a level beyond the ken of mere mortals it would be a tendency for the effortless to morph into the careless. France are full of them at the moment. Carelessness was the order of the day. Even Ramos, who is nothing if not deadly from the tee, pulled his first shot at goal.

Did it matter? It was difficult to say at that point. Yes, France kept missing, but such was the torrent of chances they were creating with insouciance, one felt the first try was only a matter of time.

It duly arrived on the half-hour, and it was shot through with all the same brilliance and carelessness. François Cros found himself with the ball after it had ricocheted this way and that off French and English hands alike. Then Peato Mauvaka, who as a hooker should know better, tried a reverse flip to his looping backs, which bobbled uselessly on the floor.

No matter, Dupont swooped and this time ran with purpose on a wicked line across the field. He turned it inside to Penaud. Dupont and Penaud. They were not going to miss this time. Penaud’s perfect chip was gathered by Bielle‑Biarrey for the game’s first try, which Ramos converted from the touchline. Obviously.

So much for the brilliance. That was never in doubt. England replied in the final 10 minutes of the half, before France spent the first 20 of the second building a relatively modest lead. Penaud’s try on the hour was brilliantly constructed by him and the usual suspects. Then again, when they replied to England’s third try with Bielle-Biarrey’s second, five minutes from time.

A team with pretensions to greatness should not lose from there. But England came at them one last time, Elliot Daly running on to Smith’s latest sleight of hand. There can be no arguments. England ended up winning, rather than France choking. But France’s chance to win had long since slipped through careless fingers.