Tthere is something very satisfying to be able to walk out of a London house at 8-15 am and join the stampede towards the station and not be going to work or even to the sation. Buy your Grudian , part with specie, amounting to about 1p a misprint on a good day amd then make your way back for grapefruit, yoghourt, toast and honey (sadly not Chain Bridge variety but Sir W Morrison's best all the way from the PRC earning air miles en route.) You go back against the flow: frantic people just too late for the 8.21, too hurried to use their mobiles, praying that the train will be late, eyes down cast, eye contact and you are doomed? Don't venture even a timid 'Good Morning' Much too early to startle people-you risk a snarl at best. You are invisible. They are invisible. Don't break the spell.

My father once made the mistake of saying good morning to a fellow (very ancient) member of his very stuffy London Club. He had just joined and knew no better. The old man rang for a steward and informed him frostily: 'This young man' (indicating my father with a twitch of an eyebrow) 'wishes to discuss the weather' So fearsome was the Oldest Members reputation that no one ever dared disturb him in his favourire chair when dozing or contemplating another glass of Port (Cockburn's 47 of course)

But the flies gave him away one day. Dead in his chair and had been for three days. Especially sad as:

the port was untouched.  ¶ 10:29 AM