He said: "I knew your father. Did you know that? I knew him many years ago when we were both young and were at University. He was a gentle creature, like you. He smiled a lot as if he knew the punchline to a joke that someone was about to tell. He liked people in general, I think. Of course, like every one, he hated the war and did what he could to stop it. It was unstoppable. But that didn't stop him from trying. He was a poet and a painter. I think he also was fond of photography. I'm certain that all of his work was lost in the fire that summer that you were born. I know that he loved you and your mother very much. It's a shame that he couldn't have known you more, like I do. There are many things you would have had in common; also many things that you could have taught each other and argued about. He would have reached out to you in his pain and you would have taken his hand in yours and you both would have been one person. I'm sorry that you did not have a chance to make that happen. I'm sorry that I didn't have a chance to see you two together like that. I knew him well and I loved him just like you."

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