21 February 1922

Victoria Palace Hotel, Paris

I am v. glad little Wingley is calmer. Nothing short of that amount of snow would keep him at home. How is your cold? I wish I had some money for you. Do you want some? Tell me. We are quite settled down in this hotel and might have been here for months.
   There are 3 spelling mistakes in your letter, Miss. One I must tell you. To lose a thing French ‘perdre' has only one o; to loose a thing - to make it free has two o's. You never get this right. Its such a common mistake that you ought to avoid it. Chaddie always makes it.
   You and Woodifield seem to be having quite a courtship. Its a pity - but I Ive said that before - -
             K.M.  [To Ida Baker, 21 February 1922.]

Most dear Elizabeth
   It rains and rains here and then the sun shines and its silvery. Big drops hang along the balcony. John goes out and comes back with four anemones and a handful of leaves bright with rain. Its like spring. The woman in the room opposite has a wicker cage full of canaries. How can one possibly express in words the beauty of their quick little song rising, as it were, out of the very stones . . . I wonder what they dream about when she covers them at night, and what does that rapid flutter really mean. And there sits the woman in her cage peering into theirs, hops down to the restaurant for her seed, splashes into a little too short bath. It is very strange.
   We speak of you so often. John, after his beating at chess has had the satisfaction of teaching me. If he wallops me absolutely he remarks "A good game. You're getting on." If it is a draw he exclaims "My God, Im a complete idiot. Ive lost my head completely." This strikes me as very male. The gentle female would never dare to be so brutal. There is a look of Bertie about the knight - don't you think? And John Conrad can be a little pawn attending. [To Elizabeth, Countess Russell, 21 February 1922.]