Jill Scott Identifies Herself
Ben Thompson, Telegraph Magazine, November 2000
THE SOUND OF DISTANT laughter echoes up the corridor. As it comes closer - suffusing the chilly corporate air of Sony's West Soho HQ with the unaccustomed glow of human warmth - the merriment intensifies into a veritable typhoon of hilarity as its author finally rounds the corner. Swathed in autumnal layers of orange and brown, her clear-skinned face providing the genial punctuation between scarf and head-dress, Jill Scott is back from lunch.
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