The owner of the Agut d’Avignon had the air of a 1920s dandy who had ruined himself with one mad night of gambling at baccarat and had only been saved by this restaurant, which he...

You’ll drown in my love story, if I ever write it using a fountain pen.

Proper writing ink comes in a bottle, can be swirled like brandy in a glass, and smells like apple blossom after rain.