I asked him for help, his wife had been mad, he nodded, with eyes fixed on a shelf full of philosophical books, and that was it. I begged for his support, his wife had been bad, he frowned, the eloquent tongue of a diplomat fell in dead silence, and that was it. I cried for his sympathy, his wife had showed her violent palms. He then went out for a jolly concert overnight! She was meant to remain, the forever glamorous opera singer in his mind. Oh, the follies of my youth! I let myself out the door and sworn to never trust a man!