He was sitting in the Café with a good friend, attempting unsuccessfully to attract the attention of a young blonde. Miffed at her disdain, especially given that he’d just been bragging to his friend about his uncanny flair with women, he resigned himself to charming the other young woman on the dance floor, Gwyn, whom he didn’t particularly like. She appeared frail and unwell, and upon his asking what was the matter she began recounting a recent breakup which had deeply unsettled her. Barely listening but attempting courtesy, he suggests they move to a quieter place. There he learned Gwyn is Welsh, a nationality he despises for its lack of civility, and he finds her nervous and ignorant to all attempts at flirtation. Regardless, he asked blandly if she’d like to go home with him. Their conversation continued to be halting and unpleasant, nothing like the man’s experience with other women, and he discovered she had no intent to sleep with him.

Despite their mismatched tendencies – he hated Gwyn’s prying into his life story and expounding on her own – the man allowed her to stay on the rest of the weekend and into the week. Each day he became more involved in their conversation, baffled by her challenges to his notion of independence (is he just lonely, afraid of commitment?) and view of the Welsh as uncultured and uncouth (they’re passionate, they don’t hide their emotions); forced to reflect. He began telling her of his childhood as an ambassador’s son, feeling affection for her, making love to her. But abruptly at weeks’ end he says he’s had enough of their conversations, they’re too different, and she should leave. After Gwyn’s calm parting words, he resolves to leave London and start over. He visits the Café de Paris for one last goodbye, and Michael tells him he just missed his girl.

Why then is he still in London? the man prompts the tourist to ask. Perhaps Gwyn will come back, perhaps her notion of commitment stuck with him, but he’ll be leaving soon, he promises himself.