No, he works here in the villa. He’s very lazy and rather naughty. But I put up with it because he’s so entrancingly graceful. It’s like having a young gazelle wandering about the grounds, or a diminutive satyr.
The stranger I was waiting to meet was a journalist, therefore it was appropriate I should wait at Dean’s bar. For at Dean’s bar gather the bogus barons and furtive bankers, the tipsy journalists and sober Jewish business men, the young diplomats and glamorous spies, the slender French and Moroccan girls, the self-styled colonels and their friends, the foreign agents the highly-coloured collection of fake and genuine, cruel and kind, which forms the international society of Tangier.