Chapter 32: XXXI

XXXI Our Foreign Correspondent “London. “Dearest People— “Here I really sit at a front window of the Bath Hotel, Piccadilly. It’s not a fashionable place, but uncle stopped here years ago, and won’t go anywhere else; however, we don’t mean to stay long, so it’s no great matter. Oh, I can’t begin to tell you how I enjoy it all! I never can, so I’ll only give you bits out of my notebook, for I’ve done nothing but sketch and scribble since I started. “I sent a line from Halifax…