This Isn't A Letter, It's A Gift.

You Must Do What You Enjoy.

And Of Course There Is Always Joy In Witnessing The Joy Of Others

The Sad Fact Is That I Love Dickens And Donne And Keats And Eliot And Forster And Conrad And Fitzgerald And Kafka And Wilde And Orwell And Waugh And Marvell And Greene And Sterne And Shakespeare And Webster And Swift And Yeats And Joyce And Hardy, Really, Really Love Them. It’s Just That They Don’t Love Me Back.

She Was Reaching The Limits Of How Much Its Possible To Change A Man

She Glanced Across To Where Tilly And Her Brand New Husband Were Posing For Photographs, Tilly Fluttering A Fan Coquettishly In Front Of Her Face. 'unfortunately I Didn't Realise There Was A French Revolutionary Theme.' 'the Marie-antoinette Thing?' Said Dexter. 'well At Least We Know There'll Be Cake.