ittle stool in Fillmore's outer office,
and that, if anybody jumps on top of you now, you can call a cop. Do you
mean to say you really used to do these daredevil feats? You must have
hidden depths in you which I have never suspected.

As I was taking a ride down Piccadilly the other day on top of a bus, I
saw somebody walking along who seemed familiar. It was Mr. Carmyle. So
he's back in England again. He didn't see me, thank goodness. I don't
want to meet anybody just at present who reminds me of New York.

Thanks for telling me all the news, but please don't do it again. It
makes me remember, and I don't want to. It's this way, Ginger. Let me
write to you, because it really does relieve me, but don't answer my
letters. Do you mind? I'm sure you'll understand.

So Fillmore and Gladys Winch are married! From what I have seen of
her, it's the best thing that has ever happened to Brother F. She is a
splendid girl. I must write to him...

Laurette et Cie..

London

March 12th.

Dear Ginger,--I saw in a Sunday paper last week that "The Primrose Way"
had been produced in New York, and was a great success. Well, I'm very
glad. But I don't think the papers ought to print things like that. It's
unsettling.

Next day, I did one of those funny things you do when you're feeling
blue and lonely and a long way away from everybody. I called at your
club and asked for you! Such a nice old man in uniform at the desk said
in a fatherly way that you hadn't been in lately, and he rather fancied
you were out of town, but would I take a seat while he inquired. He
then summoned a tiny boy, also in uniform, and the child skipped off
chanting, "Mister Kemp! Mister Kemp!" in a shrill treble. It gave me
such an odd feeling to hear your name echoing in the distance. I felt so
ashamed for giving them all that trouble; and when the boy came back
I slipped twopence into his palm, which I suppose was against all the
rules, though he seemed to like it.

Mr. Faucitt has sold the business and retired to the country, and I am
rather at a loose end...

Monk's Crofton,
(whatever that means)
Much Middleford,
Salop,
(slang for Shropshire)
Engla