Spoilt for Choice

A tall, middle-aged Dutch man went to the trouble of picking up with his fingers every variety of cake and slice in the National Gallery cafe's wide selection, bringing each trembling item one by one up to his face, sniffing it and then replacing it. I therefore decided not to have anything with my pot of English breakfast tea, after all. Which is a pity as the Bakewell tart had once looked very tempting.

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