with rather good bright brown hair—She wears horn rimmed spectacles with yellow glasses in them so I can't see her eyes at all. I judge people by their eyes. Her hands look as if she had done rather a lot of hard work—they are so very thin. Her clothes are neat but shabby—that is not the last look like French women have—but as if they had been turned to "make do"—I suppose she is very poor. Her manner is icily quiet. She only speaks when she is spoken to. She is quite uninteresting. It is better for me to have a nonentity—then I can talk aloud my thoughts without restriction. I am to give her double what she is getting now—2000 francs a month—war price. Some colour came into her cheeks when I offered that and she hesitated, I said "Don't you think it is enough?" She answered so queerly. "I think it is too much, and I was wondering if I would be able to accept it. I want to." "Then do."44 44 "Very well—I will of course do my very best to earn it"—and with that she bowed and left me. Anyhow she won't make a noise. Nina writes since she has married Jim—which she did just before the offensive in March—she has been too happy—or too anxious, to remember her friends—even dear old ones—but now fortunately Jim is wounded in the ankle bone which will keep him at home for two months so she has a little leisure. "You can't think, Nicholas, what a different aspect the whole war took on when I knew Jim was in the front line—I adore him—and up to now I have managed to keep him adoring me—but I can see I'll have to be careful if he is going to be with me long at a time." So it would seem that Nina had not obtained the rest and security she hoped for. I hope my writing a book will rest me. I have arranged all my first chapter in my head—and to-morrow I begin. June 26th—Miss Sharp came punctually at ten—she had a black and white cotton frock on—There is nothing of