After midnight a man approached me in the Campbell Bar in Grand Central Station. He was sharply dressed and appeared to be sober.
"Do you know how Robespierre died?" he asked me.
"Guillotine," I answered.
"I need more details," he said and he added, "I'm a lawyer."
I was slightly drunk so I gave him my e-mail address. "Let's discuss this during office hours," I said.