Being weary (I) turned into St Dunstan's Church, where I hear an able sermon from the minister of the place. And stood by a pretty, modest maid whom I did labour to take by the hand and the body, but she would not, but got further and further from me, and at last I could perceive her to take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her again; which seeing I did forbear, and was glad I did espy her design. And then I fell to gaze upon another pretty maid in a pew close to me and she on me; and I did go about to take her by the hand, which she suffered a little and then withdrew. So the sermon ended and the church broke up, and my amours ended also.
So wrote Samuel Pepys in 1667. And in 2009, being knackered, I turned into St Dunstan's Church (now St Dunstan-In-The-West), where I hear an able lunchtime piano recital from Simon Callaghan. And I fell to gaze upon an elderly lady in a pew close to me, but she not on me for her eyes were closed and she smiled and slowly rocked her head to the music of Chopin.