Here\'s how it started.
Same when it\'s very cold, not a soul in the.
Come on over there." Then we see that there\'s not a soul in the street, because of the heat; no cars, nothing. "This terrace," he says, "is for jerks.
And there we were. "Let\'s go in." We go in. "Not out here," he says.
I listen.
He wants to talk to me.
It was after breakfast.
So we meet on the Place Clichy.
Arthur was a friend from med school.
It was Arthur Ganate that made me speak up.
Not one word.
I\'d never said a word.
Here\'s how it started