Before you decide what kind of man I was, go to the building in Saint Paul.

Ask at the records desk for Teresa.

Tell her you are my wife.

I sat with that for about an hour and I came very close to putting the whole thing in the kitchen bin.

I want to be honest that the reason I did not is not dignity, and it is not love, and it is not curiosity.

It is that he had given me an instruction with an address on it.

He had done it again, on page one, in the middle of the apology — handed me a defined task with a location and a named person — and I got up and got my coat, and I was in a car within twenty minutes.