At lunch, the husband of O’s niece tells me how he first met Oliver, some forty years ago, at the home of his future father-in-law, O’s older brother David: Nicky looked out the window, where he saw a large, bearded man lying on the grass in the garden. “What were you doing?” Nicky asked once he came indoors. “I was wondering what it is like to be a rose,” replied Oliver.
