I joined India House this spring because I desperately wanted to move to London, and, being what it is, and overlooking a garden dedicated to the Queen, on Hanover Square, one of the few locations in what I like to think of as Old New York to retain its colonial nomenclature, it reminded me of something of what I missed. I have lunch there almost every day now, and am constantly joined by a rotating cast of clever, intriguing people (the subset of men who are willing to wear a jacket and tie to lunch tends to be rewarding: my companion yesterday is quite involved with horseracing, a subject I'll happily talk about for hours). Today I'm meeting Anne Landsman, whose brilliant novel, The Rowing Lesson, I publicized a few years ago, just before it went on to win both of South Africa's major literary prizes in a single summer. At present, so many people ask me to take them to lunch that I am never short of scintillating company –– I'm now moving into the holding court stage, where I put a table together (and if you ever want to go, just ask me, or visit the Blue Bar, open to the public at night). I do hope that some intellectual types join soon so that I may start my kind of book club. I'm also campaigning, gently, for a club table. There's always more to say.