Dear Robbie, I wish you would be a little more considerate, and not keep me up so late talking to you.  It is very flattering to me and all that, but you should remember that I need rest.  Good-night.  You will find some cigarettes and some flowers by your bedside.  Coffee is served below at 8 o’clock.  Do you mind?  If it is too early for you I don’t at all mind lying in bed an extra hour.  I hope you will sleep well.  You should as Lloyd is not on the Verandah.[17]

TUESDAY MORNING, 9.30.

The sea and sky are opal—­no horrid drawing master’s line between them—­just one fishing boat, going slowly, and drawing the wind after it.  I am going to bathe.

6 O’CLOCK.

Bathed and have seen a Chalet here which I wish to take for the season—­quite charming—­a splendid view:  a large writing room, a dining room, and three lovely bedrooms—­besides servants’ rooms and also a huge balcony.

[In this blank space he had I don’t know the scale roughly drawn a ground plan of the drawing, but the of the imagined Chalet.] rooms are larger than
                                the plan is.

1.  Salle-a-manger.               All on ground floor
2.  Salon.                       with steps from balcony
3.  Balcony.                     to ground.

The rent for the season or year is, what do you think?—­L32.

Of course I must have it:  I will take my meals here—­separate and reserved table:  it is within two minutes walk.  Do tell me to take it.  When you come again your room will be waiting for you.  All I need is a domestique.  The people here are most kind.

I made my pilgrimage—­the interior of the Chapel is of course a modern horror—­but there is a black image of Notre Dame de Liesse—­the chapel is as tiny as an undergraduate’s room at Oxford.  I hope to get the Cure to celebrate Mass in it soon; as a rule the service is only held there in July and August; but I want to see a Mass quite close.

There is also another thing I must write to you about.

I adore this place.  The whole country is lovely, and full of forest and deep meadow.  It is simple and healthy.  If I live in Paris I may be doomed to things I don’t desire.  I am afraid of big towns.  Here I get up at 7.30.  I am happy all day.  I go to bed at 10.  I am frightened of Paris.  I want to live here.

I have seen the “terrain.”  It is the best here, and the only one left.  I must build a house.  If I could build a chalet for 12,000 francs—­L500—­and live in a home of my own, how happy I would be.  I must raise the money somehow.  It would give me a home, quiet, retired, healthy, and near England.  If I live in Egypt I know what my life would be.  If I live in the south of Italy I know I should be idle and worse.  I want to live here.  Do think over this and send me over the architect.[18] M. Bonnet is excellent and is ready to carry out any idea.  I want a little chalet of wood and plaster walls, the wooden beams showing and the white square of plaster diapering the framework—­like, I regret to say—­Shakespeare’s house—­like old English sixteenth-century farmers’ houses.  So your architect has me waiting for him, as he is waiting for me.