Her Father's Daughter
Leo Baron is well known to readers of the Spectator. A solicitor in Bulawayo (and, inci- dentally, a few years ago one of the most brilliant bridge players in Britain), he has taken consis- tently a liberal stand, first in Federation, now in Rhodesian politics. His eighteen-year-old daugh- ter Leigh Baron flew recently from Bulawayo to Salisbury en route for a long visit to Britain. There were security men on the plane. At Salis- bury, Miss Baron and another girl were ordered by security officials to leave the other passengers so that their luggage could be searched. They were kept apart from the others for an hour and a half while friends tried to telephone Mr. Baron in Bulawayo. The search was thorough. Miss Baron's luggage, handbag, coat, diary and purse were thumbed through. The search, of course, was perfectly legal, and within the limits of his assignment the official was courteous. Nothing, of course, was found: what on earth did they expect to find? A smuggled article to the Spectator? And the reason for the search was clear enough from the laconic reply to a question from Miss Baron : 'Is this being done because my name is Baron?' Could be.'
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