Jan 9. Baghdad. Dearest Mother. I send you a letter from Milly, for your private eye. Isn't it a tragedy! I know it's true, what she says; can you imagine the Ullswaters being so selfish and senseless. But they are. I hope Milly will get out of it all, for there's no other alternative. I would like you to know about it and if when she comes back and you are in London, you would see her, I should be very grateful.
I must again thank you for the bag which is my constant companion and likely to be, let's hope, for ever. The Xmas party sounded very nice - I hope you thought that mine sounded nice too; it was certainly in more clement weather. Zaid is coming to dine with me this week, with a cheerful party.

I don't see the Spectator now - I found it so tiresome and stuffy that I abandoned it for the New Statesman, which is neither. But I really think a paper written by all the Strachey family must be monotonous. Oh do you remember AnnaBell's asking about the voltage at Rounton and none of us knowing! And her saying that she thought Bertie was riding quite a nice pony - it was the famous Hotpot. Well, no doubt they'll go straight to Heaven when some of us won't. You'll be there, however, so you had better prepare yourself for the company you'll keep.

I'm planning on my way down to Ur - vide my letter to Father - a two days' jaunt by myself in the desert, if the weather holds, we've had some rain. I hope the scheme will come off. I want to feel savage and independent again for 2 days instead of being a Secretary in a High Commissioner's office. Though you wouldn't have the feeling yourself I've no doubt you'll sympathise with my having it. The truth is I wonder how I bear being so civilized and respectable after the life I've led.

I'm very glad about Hugo's boy and I've written to him. Ever your very affectionate daughter Gertrude

There are heart-burnings (not shared by me) because they've given no honours to 'Iraq. I must say I think it's rather unfair to some of my colleagues.