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And then on the other hand, there are things some of which are beautiful some are not: I was in Lisbon a month ago, walking around the old quarter one evening, and there was an american girl, very pretty, playing the guitar very well and singing. She was seated on the ground singing to earn her living. She sang a bit like Joan, a pure, clear voice with some complex undertones. There was a group of young people listening, some locals the rest tourists. I stopped to listen to her, but I stayed in the shadows. At one point, one of these young men who was about twenty, at least under thirty and young, handsome, well balanced, perhaps cute approached me. He had a cake in his hand. “would you like a piece. of cake.” So I took a piece and I ate it, and I told him, “Thanks for giving that to me.” He said to me, “But, listen, I give you so little next to what you’ve given me.” I said, “Don’t say that, don’t say that,” and he went away. Well, things like that, that’s the best recompense for my work. That a person surveilling me comes up to speak to me and offers a piece of cake or perhaps a drink, it’s wonderful. It’s worth the trouble of having illegally travelled to Lisbon.