“I have found it so.” The other nodded with glimmering eyes. “Not always at the time, of course. But when I look back, especially at my beginnings, at the times that seemed hardest and most intolerable ...”
He was thoughtful for a moment, glancing interestedly round the room.
“It takes one back.”
“What does?”
“This café, my friend.”
“To your beginnings, you mean?”
“Yes. It is very like the café at Troyon’s, at this hour especially, when there are so few English about.”
“Troyon’s?”
“A restaurant in Paris. Famous in its day. Several years ago—before the war—it burned down one night, cremating many memories. While it stood I hated it, now I miss it; Paris without it is no more the Paris that I knew.”
“Why did you hate it, sir?”