(Three pages omitted.)
Really, O.D., you must hear me doing the double F in the "Boston Cake Walk" to get me at my best. You've heard Kubelik on the violin? Well, it's not a bit like that, and yet there's just that something which links great artists together, no matter what their medium of expression. Your loving
THANKYOU
P.S.—Glad you're getting on so well with your walking.
V
DEAREST THANKYOU,—Hooray, hooray, hooray—I did twenty-five walks to-day! Father counted. He says my style reminds him of Cancer Vulgaris rather. How many times can he do it? Not twenty-five on the third day, I'm sure.
Isn't it splendid of me? I see now where I was wrong yesterday. I got the knack again suddenly this morning, and I'm all right now. To-morrow, I shall walk round the table. It is a longish way, and there are four turns, which I am not sure about. How do you turn? I suppose you put the right hand out? Your very loving O.D.
VI
DEAR O.D.,—I am rather hurt by your letters. I have written several times to tell you all about my new pianola, and you don't seem to take any interest at all. I was going to have told you this time that the man in the flat below has sent me a note, just as if it had been a real piano. He says he doesn't mind my playing all day, so long as I don't start before eight in the morning, as he is in his bath then, and in listening to the music quite forgets to come out sometimes, which, I can see, might be very awkward. Write to yours affectionately, THANKYOU
VII