All that needed be done, really, was to make a simple decision: London, Paris, or Amsterdam. So? Flip a coin? Nope. Draw straws? I didn’t like the o...ds. How about pure self-centered fear of being lost on a subway at three in the morning, and having to rely on language skills last seriously exercised when LBJ was in office? Fear wins every time. So yeah, three cheers for intestinal fortitude. With that decision out of the way, I found myself motoring up the Thames in late September and locking. I glanced at him and turned back to Henry. "I'm very tired. May I return to my room?" "You may. Remember... remain in your room tonight." "I will," I said, not feeling guilty for the falsehood. "Not a peep until morning." "Good evening," he said to me. "Good night," I replied, standing, crossing the room, and laying my shaking hand on Robert's arm. I walked a little faster than he did in my eagerness to get away; he had to hurry to keep up. # I wanted to gather my nerves for a moment once I was. More

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