The spy who missed his stop.

A new spy novel by John Le Carré brought to mind his first - the book that left me soaking wet and far from home.  This was while I was still "courting" and well before I had a car, so I travelled to and fro to see my girl-friend (later to be my wife) on the bus, and invariably had a paperback book in my back pocket to while away the journeys.  So this one time it was "The Spy Who Came In From The Cold" and I was on my way home and got so engrossed that I suddenly realised I had gone some couple or three stops past where I should have got off - and I had to walk back in the pouring rain.  Strangely I could never get into any of his subsequent books, but I always remember that one.