I dive backwards into my room and pull the curtains, and Tim comes galloping up the stairs to see what on earth is the matter. Of course, I throw a pillow at him, which catches him fair and square and nearly knocks his breath away. After that he seizes me round the waist and we waltz madly round the room.

Feel ten years younger after this absurd performance, and decide that I don't care a button what the Man Who Lives Next Door thinks of me - these little idiocies are the salt of life.