And then I had a stroke of luck, the sort of luck that only comes your way after you’ve drawn a hundred thousand blanks: the Consul happened to walk across the waiting-room, and who should he turn out to be but Elemèr von Juhácz, whom I had met God knows how many times at the Jockey Club. He seized me by both hands and immediately invited me to his club, and then, by another stroke of luck, one stroke after another — I’m only telling you all this so you can see how many strokes of luck are needed to pull chaps like us out of the mire — my present wife was there.
