Years ago, I was in Washington DC when Prince Harry blew through on an official engagement. He was 28, with a full head of hair, a slightly louche gait and a public image that, on a tour of the Senate led by a baffled-looking John McCain, caused people to lose their minds.
Senate staffers stood five deep to get a glimpse; women materialised from every corner, more glamorously dressed for the office than usual. The excitement was so great that there were actual screams from behind the security line. I remember noting the prince’s prominent ears, the high colour in his cheeks and his habit, when addressed, of bowing his head, as if humbled by what he was hearing. Aw, I thought. Bless him.
