WhenIhad lefthim at hishome and taken a taxiback to the sawmill, it was wonderful to seemywife and we went up to the Closerie des Lilas to have a drink.
The first time she had visited my room, she had, after examining my meagre shelf of books, spent several minutes studying the mimeographed photo of Samuel Beckett sitting on the terrace of the CloseriedesLilas that I had taped to the wall.