Batori K. Ngabwe

I’d been lying there a hell of a time, and I reckoned, dammit, all those years they’d been writing all those smashing things about me, and why didn’t I get up, yes, just this once, and trip back down to London, shake some of ’em by the hand – why not?

I was somewhat musty, you can believe it, and my legs were creaky and cricky, lying there so long and all, but I...