 Actually, I do rather see what Judy means. Nobody seems to get comfortably old anymore. I'm sure we should, all three of us, find life far less agitating if we'd given up at 50 and were content to sit about clanking with cameo brooches. Old and grey and full of sleep and nodding by the fire. I'd rather sit in Antoine's where at least there's someone to nod to. I still maintain that we present the wrong image.