I had no house. In London I rented a service flat in Dolphin Square. It consumed my money in steady installments on weekly basis. The bills arrived in a woman's handwriting: rounded and flowing easily with the lower line of the writing creating a regular, almost scalloped pattern. The handwriting spoke of a woman at absolute peace, without anxiety. I envied her calmness and absence of ambition. And when I went down to the office to settle the bill, I tried to figure out which clerk it was-among all of those slaves of routine-who was so blessed. The author of the figures of the fierce, debilitating demand had stirred my curiosity.