had a good one. I paused to talk to the other officers; they say that
they are sure that you are very beautiful and have a warm heart, and
would like to send them a five-storey layer cake, half a dozen bottles
of port and one Paris chef. At present I am the Dives of the mess and
dole out luxuries to these Lazaruses.

Good-bye for the present.

Yours ever lovingly,
CON.




XXXI

December 6th, 1916.


Dearest M.:

I've just undone your Christmas parcels, and already I am wearing the
waistcoat and socks, and my mouth is hot with the ginger.

I expect to get leave for England on January 10th. I do wish it might be
possible for some of you to cross the ocean and be in London with
me--and I don't see what there is to prevent you. Unless the war ends
sooner than any of us expect, it is not likely that I shall get another
leave in less than nine months. So, if you want to come and if there's
time when you receive this letter, just hop on a boat and let's see what