Dearest AA, Have yours of 7th & 21st. Today some sea-mail arrived, the long-awaited Elgar Violin Concerto from Novello, some Sun. Times, and the Scholes. Thank you so much for sending it, I had forgotten it was so huge, it must have been endless trouble making up the parcel. It traveled beautifully. I am glad the excitements of the move all passed off successfully, a good deal of a worry. Tried to find out Sam’s whereabouts, but am not much wiser; however he knows where I am: we are far apart (which I knew already) hope to meet him not too far hence. More opera: Madam Butterfly this time, playing the game of spotting the singers, Butterfly was last time’s Mimi; Pinkerton was the same as Alfredo Germont in “Traviata” the excellent Cavallo was Sharpless—again he had to kick off the young man, I hope their relations aren’t too strained! The Doctor of Trav, Schaunart of Bo. was of course the old Bonze. Much enjoyed, as usual for what it is. The infant Sorrow was a diversion, as usual, children and animals don’t do too well on the stage: she continually tried to crawl into the chorus master’s box—he must have been her father. Went to an Italian film yesterday “Uno Scandalo per bene.” Costumes. Venice in the 15thC. Doges and Council of Ten and pilgrims in St. Mark’s Square—it does make one long to go there in reality. To be in Italy, but confined to this dull part—! Am sending a number of books back: there’s one I want you to read; Benson’s “As We Were” you can’t but enjoy it immensely. The Scholes is a tremendous work; shall be able, I hope, to get some real work done, as there are synopses of study on different aspects worked out. Up goes the temperature and the barometer: we probably have five months of this weather in front of us: then again the vendemmia, the wine harvest which followed closely our arrival last year. A little while ago the camp of 100 odd had drunk some 14,000 pints of wine (about six months). Don’t be alarmed, though; I doubt if I’ve drunk my quota! Do you know this? “When first my way to fair I took few pence in purse had I and long I used to stand and look at things I could not buy. Now times are altered: If I care To buy a thing, I can, The pence are here and here’s the fair, But where’s the lost young man? I don’t need to tell you the author. The Italians are beginning to loathe us: a pity: while we were at war they preferred us to the Germans; now—I get on fairly well, unless I am too thick-skinned to sense their dislike: but they usually assume me to be of It. descent, and in future I shan’t always bother to contradict them. What makes people gratuitously rude in their contacts with foreigners? People are easily biased in your favour by the smallest courtesy. I like the two prayers of the Abp. in connection with the invasion. No “Please God, be on our side” there. What would Lang have said? The little It. boy aged 12ish who works on the site speaks excellent English now. ??. I think of you always My love, J