I didn’t know what I could have spoken with Ms.

Smith at tea, but I shouldn’t have worried

because he began to put me questions about my job, about my life in London, about London,

as he would have wanted to distracted from himself. There weren’t personal questions, I

could answer detailed and however not to betray myself . He listened to me smiling ,and

sometimes, with the entire mouth. He was the only who put in/poured tea. I saw that his eyes

were injected and that his yellow cheeks had blood vessels cracked here and there. How old

he was? 70? Maybe not so.