I fell in love yesterday. It's black, high collared and velvet and has gorgeous ornate buttons. The jacket is joyous, even though the weather means I won't be able to wear it very often for another month. The result of going to Oxford Street resolved not to spend any money.

The following conversation was overheard at the bar in the King William IV in Hampstead:

"I went onto the heath with him yesterday."
"Oh?"
"It was excrutiating. All he wanted to do was cruise."
"Slut."
"Welsh slut. How's your mother?"
"She's getting another budgerigar. The other one died, you know. Lived for five years, though, which isn't bad for a budgerigar."
"Didn't she have another one before that?"
"Yes, but it was ill a lot. Used to sit on my shoulder. Mother and I used to watch 'Allo 'allo - you remember how it was on on a Friday? We'd always have Fry's Turkish while we were watching. The budgerigar died during that."
"Maybe it was the Turkish delight that killed it."
"Mm..."

Back to Tacitus.