A cold wild day, almost dark, with loud complaining winds, and no post. That's the devil! None yesterday, none to-day! I should at least have had your Monday. I am very disappointed….

However, the Monsters have gone. A darling brown horse dragged them away at 8 o'clock last night. For the last time I, shuddering, wrung M.'s little half-pound of swollen sausages, and Madame's voice rang out, “J'ai eu entre mes mains cinq mille lettres de Mistral,” and then they were gone, and I crept up to my room, ordered a boiling coffee, locked the door and simply sat and smoked till midnight. I'll shut up about them now. I feel better physically already. Isn't it awful to mind things so?

Oh, why haven't I got a letter? I want one now, now—this minute—not to-morrow!! And I believe it's there and the Post Office just won't deliver it, to spite me. I believe that quite seriously.

‘By the way’ re President Wilson. Monsieur G. says he is not at all liked in France. And why? … It's all very well for him to stand on a mountain and “dire de belles choses.” He's never suffered. He only came into the war because he saw that the Allies were going to be beaten and realised that if they were, Germany would page 149 attack America with fleets and fleets of “sous-marins puissants.” America's entry and “retard” were both on purely commercial grounds. Wilson held out to collect as much war-profits as he could—came in to avoid having those war-profits taken from him by Germany. So the men are L. G. and Clemenceau. They do understand that you can never “traiter avec ces gens-là,” that we must go on until—“bien sûr”—England and France bleed again, but equally “bien sûr” Germany is in the hands of whoever is left “en Angleterre ou la France” to do whatever they please with. Their pleasure, of course, being to make strings of sausages out of the whole country.

“Gôutez-vous! C'est du Boche. Pas mauvais!”

God! if you knew how sick to death I am of all this and how I long for home and peace. I'll not stick this much longer, and I shall very soon ask for news of Mother…. They will kill me between them all.