The Weekend Papers

As usual, Saturday morning and the fat bundles of newspapers that come with it, brought both things you never knew you were looking for and, in fact, will almost certainly never, ever want:

and sudden glimpses of things that you couldn't see anywhere else and that make every penny of their price worthwhile:

Look at those clenched fists. Poor Ms Lagarde. She reminds me of a mother - okay, me, I admit it - at the end of a long day with fractious children. Unlike me, as far as one knows, she retained her self-control. But perhaps, in fact, she ought to have punched him? It might have achieved nothing - or even been counter-productive - but at least she'd have felt better.