or A Myth of Openness Shiiiiieet! The Tavistock Society was in a mean way. Not only had Papa accidentally resent our way (no hyphen for us!) a Christmas card from Grandfather which contained a cheque for £100 and the rather cloying dedication 'to the last of my line', but the card from 'Le Grenouille' had arrived with its usual ingratiating twenty sheets plastered in. A sop from a coward, that's what it was, but it was to a coward and what's more, a remorseless one at that. The Tavs were going to enjoy it, oh blimey yes. Or so it was thought.