H. says that before we met he was in the cafe and overheard me remotely demolishing an unsuspecting someone who had said something that had got up my nose somehow “It was hilarious,” he says, “and so theatrically out of proportion. Talking of which, you know Chris? He did a theatrically out of proportion impression of you yesterday: it went something like this.” He launches into a pantomime of sniffing, head scratching, nose picking and ear clearing, with some hand waving and knee jiggling thrown in, then sits back. I go very quiet, swallow, and look out of the window.