This is absolute Heronian weather, and I think our Heron must be somewhere near here, because it is so amazingly open and healthy. And now that the black monkeys have folded up their little tents (I see and hear them) I am beginning to feel like A. does about this place. Also, now that I can walk and look over the walls…. Forty-nine sailing boats sailed ‘into the roads’ yesterday. I counted them for you. There they all were skimming about…. This place is 4 miles from Polperro, 10 from Fowey. You can go across country to Fowey in a jingle. A. and I mean to do it one day.

I have heard from V—–who dislikes the drawings very much. So does L. Well, it's their press. I suppose they'd better not use them. Just a plain blue cover with “Prelude” on it. Don't bother to type

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Carnation. Let it be. You've enough to do. I am, of course, in heaven that you liked it, cos I did too. And you ‘understood.’ I meant it to be ‘delicate’—just that.

A. is painting me and old Rib. Rib, of course, is violently flattered and keeps flattening down his fringe at the thought. He is getting very brown. He is going to bring a tame shrimp Home, please, he says.