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Penrhos Sunday Dearest Mother. I have written to Father but I will just write you a line too. I stayed in bed till near 12 and then went out for a little stroll with Aunt Maisie. A delicious day, we walked along the coast - you can't think how charming it all is. But I feel unspeakably slack now, 3 o'clock, I've come up to my room and am going to do no more. Michael Howard has arrived, an odd little fish. He looks all wrong. I don't know what is the matter with him. Please tell Elsa that the photographic things are just what I want.
But I wish I wanted to do anything but go to bed! Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude