May I interrupt, for a moment, the howls of anguish from those liberals in uproar at the news that authorities in France are banning burkinis on their beaches? I’d like to relate an incident that occurred earlier this month in France.
It involved my girlfriend, who was on her way from Paris to visit her grandmother in eastern France. An hour into her journey she pulled into a service station to fill up with petrol. On returning to her car she made a small sign of the cross as she slid into her seat. Navigating one’s way on a French motorway during the height of summer can be a fraught experience, particularly for the nervous driver. Suddenly there was a violent thump on her window. She jumped with fright. A man stooped so his face was level with hers. ‘Why do you make that sign?’ he asked, menacingly. ‘You don’t make the sign of the cross in France.’
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