The fact was I had climbed down in public – true, it was as a result of a combination of circumstances, but there are always circumstances. After the event, I saw clearly what I should have done. I imagined myself felling d’Artagnan with a right hook, getting back in my car and chasing after the swine who had hit me, catching up with him, blocking his cycle in against the pavement and delivering the beating that he so richly deserved. I ran this little film a hundred times, with odd variations, in my imagination. But it was too late and for a few days I would suffer from a feeling of bitter
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