Then you duck into the sitting room, where there’s more art and teetering towers of books – at one moment when I was there Graeme Segal, Warner’s third husband (an Oxford mathematician so distinguished that his name is attached to both a theorem and a conjecture), put out a steadying hand to prevent a collapse. The room vibrates to a steady babble of chat – friends, grandchildren, teenagers – and in the centre of it all, benignly smiling, serene and immensely elegant, Warner herself.
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2021/mar/06/war-brides-spies-and-burning-bookshops-marina-warner-on-writing-her-memoir
Well they can bill me
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