305 ORPHANAGE ROAD ERDINGTON BIRMINGHAM
My Dear Elizabeth,
This rapid exchange of letters is of great benefit to the Post Office and will affect next year’s statistics, and that’ll make Mr. Chamberlain pleased and will compensate for his gout. Yours arrived just at the right moment, having written another scene, and a very nice scene too, I think, of Bow Bells, (which is Whittington’s new and lasting name) I sat down by the fire, with the B.B.C. Symphony orchestra playing some Arnold Bax at my right hand, the new lamp shedding a gentle glow on the right, and a loaded tea-tray before me. At that moment the postman gave his delicate tender afternoon knock at the door and your letter went Plop on the door-mat. All very opportune, and pleasant.
Yes, all you say about Lady Macbeth, a good simile, except she was Lady Macbeth. Kenneth made a nice remark in his letter today, which I will quote in full; not about the Lady of Skipton, but…thus, after discussing the wedding expenses…..
“Spread over a period of years, as the Accountants say, there is
an overhead charge of 10/- p.a. for the next twenty five years,
when one has another splash for a Silver Wedding and so it goes
on for the rest of one’s life. You have been warned!”
A pleasant wit, our Kenneth, at times.
Oh, the dog, yes yours was splendid but your works are so sophisticated, so trained and polished; mine is natural art, the expression of a dumb emotion, the untrained genius of the natural homo sapiens. I’ll try a sideways dog at the end of this.
Your remarks in re Fame and Adoring females, talented, beautiful and rich, swooping round a David who has done something is rather sweet. But what Faith you have! I have not so much, or I’d give up. And anyhow, you will be able to hold your own, or “would be able…” is more modest, with all the sirens you conjure up. Anyhow I shan’t need wealth then, and brains in women terrify me and make me feel a sap, and its all a gaga idea anyhow.
I wonder, do you take me at my own valuation, or at your own, when you say, with such apparent sincerity, things about achievement? If it is my own, it may be pathetically evanescent. I don’t know, one tries, thats all.
You are bien noble, avec un noblesse incroyable to understand so simply the position about Sunday. It makes it easier for me. I don’t dislike going, mark you, if we are to be honest, but I’d far far far sooner be with you anywhere, or working on my own. At the moment the Dairy work is very convenient, and so long as there are no childish squabbles, when I should pack up at once, we may as well net what fish we can until the other nets bring things in.
No I didn’t go to Football. I worked violently here with Eileen, as I am going to tonight. We have shifted a lot of work though, and I’ve got on well with this ‘ere play. But I can’t judge it yet. It seems to lack a coherent swelling progress, too spasmodic. But an episodic play of three quarters of an hour must be like that. They asked me to let them have a synopsis for London, so they seem to be taking its efficiency for granted, which makes me worry all the more. Only the last scene remains to be done and that’ll be written, willy nilly, tonight after Eileen goes circa ten o’clock. Then revision and that’s done. The B.B.C. folk like the Sap and have written offering the copyright fee, so that’s done with! Now for the next.
Tomorrow we’ll eat when we meet so come hungry. Six o’clock I’ll be there. Cheerio until then, and thanks for letters, for your youness and for everything.
Good news that Mark is bringing his missis up with him.
