I stuff some of the bittersweet delight into my mouth, and allow the chocolate to slowly melt on my tongue. "Nothing like chocolate to help make our night, eh?"
"So", says Carl, "What was going on?"
"That was exactly what I was asking Kenny. He didn't appear to have an answer for me, and I am not one to try to force confidences.",
"You said that just like a Victorian novelist" . says Carl. "Or Edwardian. Perhaps post-Edwardian?" "
"Evelyn Waugh", says Francois. "Or maybe Aldous Huxley."
"I would say more like Virginia Woolf", says Carl.
"An amazing writer", say I."
"And a notorious anti-Semite", says Carl. "But back to your friend", and here I begin to notice that generally, he prefers to call Kenny my friend, than say his name. I wonder why?
"Your guess is as good as mine", say I. "But he began to disappear frequently."
"Read some more" says Carl.
"Yes, please", says Francois. "This chocolate is delicious." then he adds, "Was Virginia Woolf really an anti-Semite."
"She was probably just grumpy", says Carl. "They didn't have decent chocolate in those days. Who knows, if she had a daily fix of this exquisite stuff, she might never have drowned herself in the Thames."
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