“Dear little lady…”

On the rue de Cléry, in the thick of the newspaper district, I meet up with my friend Louis Reynier, and we have to celebrate. I meet up with Louis Reynier almost daily, and each time we have to celebrate the fact. We enter a bistrot known to its regulars for its Sancerre. But it’s hot outside, so we order beer. When we’re done with our mugs, a stooped little old man approaches