What was the message Dylan sent Françoise Hardy halfway through his Paris concert?
Mark Ellen, The Word, March 2005
A BLUSTERY STROLL from the Champs Elysée, past the upscale delicatessens of 17ème District, across the deep-pile foyer of a high-security apartment block and you're swept into a spotless marble-floored duplex smelling softly of flowers. It's dotted with low glass tables, Eastern religious effigies and some well-thumbed books on astrology.
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