"It cost us a week," he wrote home to his sister, "to get the place
to my mind. Since then we have been adding fancy touches almost
daily, and now the other batteries froth with envy. You see, it had
to be contrived, like the poet's chest of drawers."
A double debt to pay:
Doss-house by night and bag-of-tricks by day.
And here we have lived now, shooting and sleeping (very little
sleeping) for five solid weeks. All leave being off, I have fallen
into this way of life, almost without a thought that there ever had
been, or could be, another, and feel as if my destiny were to go on
at it for ever and ever. And this at thirty-five, Sally!
"It must be ever so much worse for the youngsters, one would say.
Anyway I have had ten good years that they are missing . . .
Cambridge, Henley, Lord's; Ascot, and home-to-tidy, and afterwards
the little Mercedes, and you and I rolling in to Prince's and the
theatre, whilst good old Bob is for the House, to take _his_
exercises walking the lobbies; clean linen after the bath, and my own
sister beside me--she that always knew how to dress--and the summer
evening over Hyde Park Corner and the Green Park.
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