A letter to The Editor

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2012
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

3 March

Dear Cedric

The letter is probably Z, since it is more versatile on the board than Q or J, and my handkerchiefs are accordingly monogrammed with it. (They wanted to monograph them, but I refused, unless they gave them a free mammagram: which they refused.)

I had a telegram from Tom, but he had telegraphed in vain - 'twas ever in vain with Tom, after dear Viv, and it is now just an Unreal City in which he cannot believe death has undone so many. (Dr ZenZen has charge of his case now, after taking over the left-property concession at Victoria. [He wanted the right-property one, but he had sealed a playing-card in the envelope, rather than his bid].)

Victoria sends her love, and, forgiveably, spends less time with Virginia now after that incident with the water, so the hours hang heavy, unless she goes to the lighthouse, or calls on her kid brother Jacob in his room. At least he has a room of his own!

Ed tells me - a little too candidly even for my club's steward - that he 'wants to get his end away', but maybe he'll sublimate that in another novel. I'd like to believe that there is a visual quality in his prose, as everyone else says, but I'd rather buy ivory from a merchant in the street!

Anyway, that's a round-up of the set. (Moeran had tried to buy the set, saying that, after all, he, too, was known by his initials, but his Egyptian funds fell through.)


Yours dutifully



Bertie

PS I did want to get this to the post to-night, but, at the head of the stairs (or was it the stead of the hares?), I was blunged into parkness, everything became a blur, and I had visions of falling, my head mashed to a pulp on the newel-posts.


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