The quartet was mercifully concluding its shrill rendition of The Duchess of Devonshire’s Reel when commotion ensued.

What a pity that you, dearest Anthony, will never know the singular thrill of an encounter with Anthony Haverhill. At first one feels harpooned; it’s as if invisible spears, launched from your eyes, anchor in one’s own, so constant and unyielding is your focus. It sounds grisly but oh, dearest Anthony, it is anything but! Your eyes (enchanting, by the w…

This post is for paying subscribers