I didn't see him myself. I drove in with Ailz and Dot, assembled Ailz's disability scooter for her, then stayed behind in the car, reading a book. It was a sunny day. Earlier I'd been sitting out in the back yard.
I'm reading Mary Wesley. Ailz put me onto her. I'm full of admiration for a novelist who only started writing at an age when most novelists are either dead or winding down into senescence, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to stomach her cast of toffs and philistines- even if she is sending them up.