I loved hearing from you this morning, and I had intended to write to you to-day and tell you that Lawrence has gone home again. We walked with him as far as the ferry and away he sailed in a little open boat pulled by an old, old man. Lawrence wore a broad white linen hat and he carried a rucksack on his back. He looked rather as though the people of Falmouth had cried to him as the Macedonians did to Paul and he was on his way over to help them.

That journey with F. I built myself a bower of newspapers and sat in it until the train reached Paddington but F. talked over and round it and kept pointing to little financial paragraphs … leaping upon them, you know, with a shout of excitement, with the ardour of a young man discovering mountains and torrents. Fancy thrilling to the fact that Pig Iron is nominal and Zinc Sheets are unchanged….