I never thought I would say this but Christopher Hitchens has been good for my health. When we were negotiating which restaurant to choose, the famously nicotine-bitten enfant terrible of Anglo-American letters inquired whether I smoked. “I’m sorry to say that I’m almost as bad as you,” I replied and we both chuckled throatily.

And thus we meet on a sunny afternoon at the Bombay Club – a popular restaurant across Lafayette Square from the White House. We chose it not because we especially like Indian food – although Hitchens is as fond of it as I – but because we can sit outside and so sidestep Washington’s blanket ban on indoor smoking.