things, seemed to think
he had better not. I asked him why again--you know my persistency--for
I can't conceive why it should be better not for London to have such a
joy and for him to give it, but he only shrugged his shoulder again,
and said he always did what his agent told him to do. "My agent knows
his business, my dear Mees Chrees," he said. "I put my affairs in his
hands, and having done so I obey him. It saves trouble. Obedience is
a comfortable thing."

"Then why--" I began, remembering the things he says about kings and
masters and persons in authority; but he picked up his violin and began
to play a bit. "See," he said, "this is how--"

And when he plays I can only stand and listen. It is like a spell.
One stands there, and forgets. . . .

_Evening_.

I've been reading your last darling letter again, so full of love, so
full of thought for me, out in a corner of the Thiergarten this
afternoon, and I see that while I'm eagerly writing and writing to you,
page after page of the things I want to tell you, I forget to tell you
the things you want to know. I believe I never answer _any_ of your
questions! It's because I'm so all right, so comfortable as far as my
body goes, that I don't remember to say so. I have heaps to eat, and
it is very satisfying food, being German, and will make me grow
sideways quite soon, I should think, for Frau Berg fills us up daily
with dumplings, and I'm certain they must end by somehow showing; and I
haven't had a single cold since I've been here, so I'm outgrowing them
at last; and I'm not sitting up late reading,--I couldn't if I tried,
for Wanda, the general servant, who is general also in her person
rather than particular--aren't I being funny--comes at ten o'clock each
night on her way to bed and takes away my lamp.

"Rules," said Frau Berg briefly, when I asked if it wasn't a little
early to leave me in the dark. "And you are not left in the dark.
Have I not provided a candle and matches for the chance infirmities of
the night?"

But the candle is cheap and dim, so I don't sit up trying to read by
that. I preserve it wholly for the infirmities.

I've been in the Thiergarten most of the afternoon, sitting in a green
corner I found where there is some grass and daisies down by a pond and
away from a path, and accordingly away from the Sunday crowds. I
watched the birds, and read the Winter's Tale, and picked some daisies,
and felt very happy. The daisi