Be careful not to honour the Atlantic with more than one immersion a day....
And, 30.8.17. I am exceedingly busy, but I am enjoying it all. My health is as bad as ever and I have recovered my famous lead-poisoning hue. I expect you, however, to return with the bloom of roses and the stains of coffee on your cheeks. So make up your mind to sleep and do it....
In the first week of September there began the most persistent series of air-raids that occurred at any stage during the war.
Last night, Teixeira writes, 5.9.17, was made hideous by a pack of confounded Germans who came over London and created no end of a din. I looked out of the window, saw one shell burst in a south-easterly direction, debated whether to go below or remain in bed and remained in bed.
[My cook], from her basement, appears to have obtained a much clearer aural view:
“Didn’t you hear them two raiders firing bom-m-ms at each other, sir?”
There spoke your Sinn Feiner: they were both raiders to her. The row lasted for over two hours; and I feel an utter wreck. Lord knows what mischief the brutes have done this time.
Vale et nos ama.