In the Field as indeed we are, and with no gate, they think it cheaper here to have a length of rope round an anlmals neck than to build hedges, fences and gates, which is all right from their point of view but not so good from the animal’s, in the Field, then, the prompt and delightfully frequent arrival of your letters- is a delighter beyond all others, Yesterday came the one written from Dotheboy’s Hall with the Chapmans. A nice letter wherein were reports of Richard sleeping in an old oak chest,and of you going to Worcester a-shopping ? Did you get as far as Ross to see May Carter ? No, I expect not only just thought of it myself.  Oh dear, aren’t you nice; and Dickie diddleum was company in your great suite, and he liked better to sleep in your room, most wise and sagacious youth, I too would prefer,….but never mind that, heigh ho and likewise hey-nonny-nonny. Yes indeed, I shouldn’t wonder.  I shouldn’t but I do, often and at all times,

                        I’m glad you got away and left Candy in charge. Your remarks about old houses are very shrewd, and few people are so clear sighted.  They are charming, and fun, other peoples, but they make work. But a new modern house, of some size, of good design, and well placed would mean the writing of a book which sold quite a lot of copies, and we don’t really want that, do we? I think what we want from St, Anthony, Uncle Jonathan and Cousin Careless is a nice yearly book which sells a quietly increasing number of copies, a steadily rising graph as our domestic needs demand. A sudden wumph upwards would make us unhappy in a silly way. And if we are to be dressed domiciliarily by Luytens we’d have to spoil a lot of things by making a whumph. So a sensible farm house would be the dream.  But I agree that the ideal would be modern, regular, solid and sensible. However, for now, Rosemary Cottage is paradise enow., or the Fitzgerald tree with you as the Thee,

                        Marvellous, another letter, in the interval between the last paragraph and this one ! Written at Dormston and then finished when you had withdrawn from Scarlet-fever doubts to your home.  I loved the idea of your trip to Worcester and the place where we once got out and walked….. I Know. And Richard sleeping in your arms.  Oh dear. And then watching the people and choosing brogues, good good Good,

                        Dormiston. I am perplexed, Marjorie’s cows are called that, Ewart lives there, Marjorie is not Ewart, yet the cows….howsocome please. Oh, in the box I have sent home by M.F.O. is an Italian revolver. Will you give it to my friend Christopher please ? Richard will not appreciate it and maybe he won’t want one later and Christopher will probably like to have it as loot. It comes from a genuine battlefield in Sicily, picked up almost warm as one might say. Its a lousy weapon compared to ours but there you are, its a revolver and is for Christopher,  I’ve sent him some local currency and a few stamps today, by sea-mall. I’m so grateful to him for being friendly and for reacting as he has, its the richest compilment, and such friendliness from a Suffield is touching indeed.

                        I said but little about Rome, I couldn’t.  It will take time. We stood above the Piazza del Popolo at nine in the evening and saw the city all gold in the sunset and St. Peters was bronze with bell for Compline.  And I saw Pity, Michelangelo, over an exquisite altar in a chapel at St. Peter’s and it well nigh turned me papist on the spot, the breathtaking quivering beauty of it. And I saw the sun set behind the Coliseum, and the Villa Medici, with a great walled garden, wherein such as Raphael and Lorenzo could have walked, scented and colourful, with string music among trees. And the squares and fine streets and the queer corners with exquisite churches, with fountains in front and pillared porticoes. And ancient Roman gateways. It was astonishingly startling.

                        We have a little boat, a fourteen foot boaty boat, a fishing boat with a lug sail, made from a light tarpaulin, and I’ve been sailing in the nude and swimming in the deep clear water, and lying in the sun on the floor of the little boat with Allan and Peter. It was glorious.  I seem to be deeply ensconced in admin now, and have my company office in a little marquee and the tent lines stretching in front of me, its all very much like Camp Coffee labels !

                        Did you mean on the left hand wall of the room for the Lanave or on the wall opposite to the window on the left of that wall, I mean this or this.
                            Now, – I love you to like my own style of spelling, I will not be cross and have only pretended to be so on the outside. I was frightened that, once long ago, when reading anything, you were laughing at what I had written and not the misplaced e’s. But you were ever too kind for-that,

                        Richard does sound a good person, -They aren’t all calling him Dickie I hope, try to make outsiders, except the very special few call him Richard and only the inner few on special occasions to be familiar. And no Dicks for a long while Oh no.