Dearest Diary,
Day eight: To the Club for supper. Cavendish
appeared in a bath-chair looking decidedly mauve; his grotesquely
swollen throat at least three times that of a normal fellow's! Berated
the man for not wearing a necktie, whence he muttered and drooled some
excuse or other. Couldn't fathom a word of it. But then he did receive
his education at the Other Place. Am inclined towards reporting him to
the Steward! Bad form.
Lilywhite is of the opinion that the
war will be over by Christmas. One can only hope. It is quite
impossible to find a decent Bordeaux in this current state of affairs.
There's something odd about Cotter.
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