Turning her attention back tome, "what the hell do you think you are doing," she whispered as shegrabbed my arm with her free hand. Walking me toward... the basementstairs, "you are embarrassing me, and you're embarrassing Gerald. Whatcan you possibly be thinking?"All of the courage I just felt fell out of me as we walked down thestairs toward my old room. "Je suis d?sol?, (I am sorry) Madame, je nesais pas ce que je pensais (I do not know what I was thinking)," I oftenslipped into French when. The old Lebanese kebab shop served us the most delicious lamb in pita sandwiches behind the old Working-man's College in Acton Town before we made our way to the theatres of Soho, to find ourselves a frivolous play to enjoy. It was a pity that it vanished before our eighteenth return. Thereafter we sated ourselves with one of the many subterranean sushi bars around Piccadilly Square. After the show there was usually a straggler or two outside the theatre with one too many drinks and no ride. More

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