Mezzo Notte and Marvelle

Hugo, Supreme President of Foreign Programs, at my University is married to a lovely if somewhat skittish lady, Marvelle. They own Pomeranians.

If you have read along you know that at one time Marvelle -- how can I say this -- found me quite irresistible. And for good reason. I am, after all, an Ivy League man. What that means is that women with good taste have their heads turned. Marvelle is over endowed with good taste and about a year ago it was clear to me that I had to let her know that I am spoken for by my cherished Caroline.

So, we had lunch and I told her that I understood the effect I had on her and that she must get over me. She handled it quite well and pretended not to know what I was talking about. In fact, she left from the restaurant somewhat hurriedly. Some misunderstandings ensued including and awkward Valentine's exchange. This was about the time Dean Bumble was having me serve as host to the ill-fated Senator (no Monkey Business) Faceworth. But enough of that that. It can all be reviewed by linking to the posts of February and March of last year.

I write now only to report that I have received, in what is most certainly Marvelle's distinctive handwriting, a note: 30 January, mezzo notte, the bell tower.