Monday, December 21, 2009

December 21, 1936

Well, he's gone and done it! My horrid manager - really, he's just the most evil fellow in the world, I expect - has got me out of my contract here. I cannot begin to imagine what he had to do to arrange this, my very salvation, but he's done it. I really do hope nothing illegal has been done - he's capable of anything, my darlings - but I shan't worry myself with that. Because I'm returning to London; what joy! Oh, yes, London can be quite tedious, but it always seems so marvelous when one is away. So, at this moment, stranded as I've been, languishing here in the Wild - but perversely dull - West, it does shimmer paradisiacally!

I shall have to remain here through Christmas, of course - civilised people do not travel Christmas week - but then, once the new year is upon us, I shall fly! Well, not really fly. It's much too far. Besides, flying has only brought me the greatest misfortune of late, you understand.... No, there's the long train trip to New York, where I shall stay for a week - there are so many people there who say they must see me before I leave the country - and then the Normandie home. Oh, to be home! I have the most charming flat in town, you know. And, of course, my lovely country house. But, then, you've seen that in all the illustrated magazines. Oh, I do hope my roses are making it through the winter well. I have the most marvelous little gardener who tends to them. He's quite a gnarled little gnome, really; the top half of him goes East, whilst the bottom veers West. Haha! But he is a sorcerer when it comes to my roses. They are so lovely. Ah, home....

And so very soon I shall be there, my darlings. Amongst my own things at last. I shall need several weeks to recuperate and rest from my journey, of course. Before I shall find myself able to meet with the very "Lions of the Theatre" who've got me to come home. Though I'll be longing to dash over to Paris for new frocks - I am terribly in need at present - I may find it necessary to purchase something by a British couturier; I suppose I may find something not too unattractive. For, after all, I don't want to keep Ivor and Noël waiting for too long a time. They are both so highly strung, I fear what a protracted wait could make of them. In my imagination I can see them, one ahold of each of my arms, gnashing their teeth and mewling like overly amorous cats, whilst they endeavor to pull me to bits. Oh, haha! How very funny! Haha! Well, even should it come to that, the scene - whatever it must be - will be played very, very soon!

À bientôt, my darlings!

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