That season at Baden Baden, in those permanently sunny days before that sad unpleasantness at Sarajevo, would be just the dimmest of recollections were it not for those stolen hours with Prince Boris.He was importunate - and had fabulous hair - but I simply could not see myself in a Balkan context. Good thing, too; nothing turned out well in that part of the world for the next eight decades or so...
Handsome chap, with YES, fabulous hair. Was the Prince fond of moustache rides?
ReplyDeleteOh my dear, since your magic nights together, Boris has moved to San Francisco and is a big star on the hairball porn circuit under the nom "Jack Radcliffe." A quick googe will bear me out.
ReplyDeleteI remember it like it was yesterday. You were flirting unashamedly in the breakfast room. And nobody was amused by your oops-i-dropped-my-spoon-under-the-table routine. That's not something one wants to see, not while having eggs benedict.
ReplyDeleteOh, Monsieur, I know what you mean - the Hollandaise goes everywhere!
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