Dear Ones All:-
Where this past week has gone to I haven' t the foggiest idea, but I know perfectly well that my leave is half finished and that a week from to-day I am due to hit the trail for that place which was once named by some misguided person "La Belle France" Believe me, London has it skinned a mile. (That isn’t the way I was talking a year ago, is it? - but things have changed since then) The weather has been particularly fine and warm , and I never knew they ever had such blue skies in England. We have been spending most of our mornings in Kensington Gardens, close by, and our afternoons and evenings have been filled up in various ways. On Saturday we went out to the old Ranalagh Country Club with a Mr. and Mrs. Tatham whom Molly met at Bryanston Square. It is an immense place and simply beautiful. The old oaks and plane trees, and the flowers and lawns, and- oh everything- were delightful beyond words. We are having lunch with the Tathams on Wednesday and then are going out to the Club for tennis afterwards. We had dinner one night with Pete Wedd and Gyp Willcox at their flat. They are much more comfortable now in a nice big flat in Maida Vale than they were when I was with them in South Belgravia. This afternoon we went to Mme. Tussand’s. Everybody is supposed to see that so Molly wanted to go. I had seen it before and didn’t care any more for it this afternoon than I did the first time, which wasn’t much. To-night we went to a revue and had a good laugh as it was one of the best thing either of us had seen for a long time. We have just gotten hack to the hotel and while I am writing this Molly is sewing frills and ribbons together to make something or other, and whistling little tunes to herself. She is looking well these days except for her lack of color and that of course, is due to her indoor life and long hours, poor little kid.
The Gazette had me posted as a flight commander last Friday so I’m a captain once more. Gosh gee, I sure do have an awful time tearing stars down and putting them up again on my tunics.
London is full of American uniforms now and they look quite grand. Must close now, Dear Ones. Molly got one of mother’s lovely letters day before yesterday and I need hardly tell you that it was the very best bit of mail that arrived during the week. However, she will write you herself about it. She sends her dearest love to you all and with all of mine too, I remain,
Yours as always,