Grand Hotel des Libellules,
Monte Carlo,
December, 1926.
Dearest Helen,
Monte is a perfect dream. I never saw such flowers. You know they actually uproot any dead or dying plants in the public gardens over night and put fresh ones in. John says that they comb the grass and dust the leaves every morning with a feather broom.
John has had three goes at the tables, and has so far been lucky. I have had three new frocks, the evening one a perfect duck…
…and two hats…
…and John has still got a thousand francs over. So you see what a lovely place it is.
A funny thing happened yesterday. We were walking on the terrace, and John was using strong language about the pigeon shooting, which is really rather horrible, my dear, when I happened to notice a man and a girl sitting on a seat. I woul
