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When I was in Paris, I was pretty much left to my own devices by my hostess and took to walking across the city, much as I had done when I acquired a taste for truanting afternoons in London in my previous year at school. I found I constantly got picked up by young Algerian men. It eventually penetrated my consciousness that the reason they made such a beeline for me was that no French girl would so much as look at them, and they were desperate for some sort of social and preferably sexual outlet.