Hotel Imperial, Annecy,
June 22nd, 1926.
Dearest Helen,
How delightful to get your letter, which we found waiting for us at Thonon. I am sorry about Bingo, poor old boy. I’m afraid you’ll miss him dreadfully. But he was getting old, wasn’t he, and after the vet’s opinion I don’t see what else you could have done.
John is an angel, but I shouldn’t care to take a honeymoon with anybody; so don’t be rash, and if ever you feel in the consenting mood, which so often, happens, pull yourself together and think it over. Fortunately, John and I agree about all the most important things. What I mean is that we both like to sleep with the window open.
We are being shamelessly vulgar. I hate trains and we can’t afford a car. So we are doing the Alps in a charabanc. It was John’s idea, and those P
