Giles Manningtree had the annoying habit of latching on to me simply because we were the same nationality. He believed fellow-countrymen should stick together and defend their common culture before it was trodden underfoot by ignorant Gallic hordes. I wondered what had induced him to set up shop in Paris in the first place. There was forty years’ difference in our ages, but he looked ten years older than that. He had actually lived through the 1960s; unfortunately, he’d been too stoned to remember much about them.