The waiter had just reappeared and I saw her blue eyes catch the light and smile as she noticed that he was heading towards her carrying a fresh cup of coffee. I knelt down like a devotee before the image of a goddess. An English voice; not remarkable in London, and certainly pleasant to listen to with its warm, soft and almost timid tone. Would you like to try it?”
“Certainly.”
I gave her a scarf and a warm overcoat to wear and with an arm around each other, we braved the cold, windswept street. It was her. This woman was good, too good and I knew that I could not hope to resist such a fierce onslaught for long. I looked at her in awe. I knelt down like a devotee before the image of a goddess. She took a seat at a table near mine and sat back in her chair.
