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I am in central London, looking for somewhere not too expensive to have lunch. I enter a caf?, and see a recently-acquired friend, an assistant at a nearby bookstore, on his lunch break.

“I’ve got news for you,” he says, as I sit down. “You’re being followed.”


“Oh, it’s not that bad. And it’s stopped. You know yesterday, when you came in to the store?”


“Well, as you left, one of the security men came over to me and said, ‘Who is that guy?’ ‘Oh, he’s just a friend of mine, a writer,’ I said. ‘Well, we’ve…

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