ttray _promises_ that the dear
thing shall be ready for our start to France on the 19th. Meanwhile, I
shall console myself for my disappointment by buying an outfit for a
trip--a warm coat, and a mask, and a hood, and all sorts of tricky
little things I've marked in a perfectly thrilling catalogue.

Now, if you fuss, I shall be sorry I've told you the truth. Remember the
axiom about the bad penny. That's

Your
Molly

The Horrible Restaurant of the Boule d'Or, Suresnes, Near Paris,

_November 28_.

Forgive me, dear, long-suffering-because-you-couldn't-help-yourself-Dad,
for being such a beast about writing. But I did send you three cables,
didn't I? Aunt Mary would have written, only I threatened her with
unspeakable things if she did. I knew so well what she would say, and I
wouldn't have it. Now, however, I'm going to tell you the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth--no varnish. Indeed, there isn't
much varnish left on anything.

I wonder if I can make you comprehend the things I've gone through in
the last two or three days? Why, Dad, I feel old enough to be your
mother. But I'll try and begin at the beginning, though it seems, to
look back, almost before the memory of man, to say nothing of woman. Let
me see, where _is_ the beginning, when I was still young and happy?
Perhaps it's in our outfit for the trip. I can dwell upon that with
comparative calmness.

Even Aunt Mary was happy. You would have had to rush out and take your
"apoplectic medicine," as I used to call it, if you could have seen her
trying different kinds of masks and goggles, and asking gravely which
were most becoming. Thank Heaven that I've inherited your sense of
humour! To that I have owed my sanity during the last _dies irae_. (Is
that the way to spell it?)

I wouldn't have the conventional kind of mask, nor goggles. Seeing Aunt
Mary in her armour saved me from that. I bought what they call a "toilet
mask," which women vainer than I wear at night to preserve their
complexions. This was only for a last resort on very dusty days, to be
hidden from sight by a thin, grey veil, as if I were a modern prophet of
Korassan.

We got dust-grey cloaks, waterproof cloth on the outside, and lined with
fur. Aunt Mary invested in a kind of patent helmet,