Last week on the cover of the New Yorker, Eustace Tilley took his annual gander at a pink butterfly. Inside, back among the brandy and perfume ads appeared a feature not nearly so old as Eustace Tilley, but already as much of a standby: the quietly perceptive weekly Letter from London. (Last week's topic was the coal crisis: "like living a bad patch of the war all over again.")
The letter was in familiar surroundings, but its author was not. Mollie Panter-Downes, London correspondent for the New Yorker since the day Britain went to...
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