“It’s all a wonderful improvisation!” said Prof, sucking on his pipe and pouring himself a second glass of Armagnac. “What?” asked William. “Huh, pardon?” coughed Prof. “What … is a wonderful improvisation?” They had withdrawn to Prof’s study, for a browse of the weekend newspapers. Both felt light-hearted and relaxed, not only because of their morning trip to the Dog Rock Winery, but also because of the insidious magic of the April afternoon. The golden light, in perfect harmony with the autumn colours and the bricks of the old town, seemed to warm the old blood as efficiently as the…