&ldquo;Well, and what do you think of Paris?&rdquo; I sipped my Pernod before turning to Brian Ballantyne for an answer to my question.<br />The early spring evening had drawn to a close in a fine drizzle of rain, so we were sitting at a small table under the pavement-awning of the Restaurant Chez Louis, just off the Place de l&rsquo;Opera, sipping a pre-dinner ap&eacute;ritif after making a quick tour of the more important features of the French capital. It was Brian&rsquo;s first visit and, curiously enough, it was unpremeditated. When he had looked in at my London flat earlier in the day, quite casually, as had become his habit since our mutual friend, &ldquo;Steeley&rdquo; Delaroy, had vanished into the blue, he found me packing a suitcase, with a flying trip to Paris in view, ostensibly to try out the new Puss Moth I had just acquired.