There's a coat left in the bar. Not just any coat: a cashmere coat with hand stitching, tortoise shell buttons, and bemburg lining. There is a slight smell of a special blend pipe tobacco, and two tickets to the Grand Kabuki and a dried rose bud in the pocket. Diane is in awe of the coat and by association the man who owns it, despite the fact that she doesn't know who it is or what he looks like. Diane goes on and on about how she knows this is the man of her dreams. The coat's owner calls t ...[Read Story ]