I can hardly stand by and be outshone by my best friend, so I dare follow Simon's lead and entertain his charming, gay, and rather inebriated funeral guests. When performing, I feel that I am actually the audience and the crowd is entertaining me. The rapport between performer and audience is unique and terribly vital to a successful show. How screen actors get anything done properly is a mystery to me.

"I'll Give You a Ring" comes off rather well, I think. It's a clever boy-gets-girl foxtrot number from one of Simon's March Mews Comedies (6 musical comedies, originally produced between 1923-1928, a.k.a. Simon Niall's "Mewsicals"). I give the song my own personal flair, breathing new life into the tune made famous by tenor Jack Fainwick. I'm particularly pleased with the results by the time I sing the bridge; I've somehow managed to woo a young woman into Simon's arms.

It's you, dear, I plan to propose to
Though you're dripping with beaux
From your head to your toes
You don't behave as you're supposed to
With your head in the clouds
I get lost in the crowds...

My song is well received, and I accept the inevitable praise with as much modesty as I can muster. My mind is elsewhere. Once again I notice the lithe blonde who caught my gaze earlier this evening. She raises a glass to me, but she turns her attention to the balcony view of Paris just as I return the gesture.

As curious as I am to discover who Simon's dancing partner is, I have the more pressing business of learning more about the mystery woman on the balcony. Taking my champagne cocktail with me, I join her. Paris is well lit tonight, the winter chill prompting many to stay indoors. The Eiffel Tower, a forty-year-old goddess, is as poised, slender, and lovely as ever. Diana's round, silver pool shines down on us, bathing the two of us in blue. Its cold light casts a soft sheen upon this mystery girl, and I notice that she shivers.

"It is rather brisk tonight, isn't it?" I ask, removing my jacket and placing it gently over her shoulders.