Verena in the Midst: A Kind of a Story — John Shaqi
Verena in the Midst: A Kind of a StoryLucas, E. V. (Edward Verrall)
General
Verena in the Midst: A Kind of a Story
Lucas, E. V. (Edward Verrall)
England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Epistolary fiction; Invalids -- Fiction
It’s an awful thing to say, but I often regret the loss of the War. Not
because I was a profiteer, but because I then had something to do and
some fun with it. But now?—Your loving
HAZEL
VII
RICHARD HAVEN TO VERENA RABY
MY DEAR, of course I will write. If I were not tied to London just now by
office work I should take rooms near you and do my best to spoil you. But
that cannot be. Instead I will send you a letter as often as possible.
In fact, I wouldn’t mind, if it would really give you any satisfaction,
promising to write every day. _Nulla dies sine epistola_—however short.
Shall I? I never made such an undertaking before in my life.
As to books—when I am ill I am like the man who when a new one came out
read an old one—Dr. Johnson or Hazlitt or Mr. Birrell—and therefore I am
a bad counsellor. Were I to have a nice luxurious little illness at this
moment I should take with me to the nursing home _Emma_ and _Mansfield
Park_; but they are men’s books far more than women’s. I should also put
into practice a project I have long had in mind—the attempted re-reading
of certain favourites of my schooldays, to see if they will stand the
test. Probably not. These include _Midshipman Easy_, _Zanoni_, _Kenelm
Chillingly_ and, above all, _Moby Dick_; but I doubt if any of these
are in Miss Raby’s line. Nor is, I am afraid, my glorious new friend,
O. Henry. In default of a better I send by parcel post the old 6-volume
edition of Fanny Burney’s _Diary_.
Picture me hunting about for a Reader. Surely among all the demobilised
young women who are said to be pining for a job I can find one! Don’t
be frightened—she shall not be too startlingly from one of the great
tea-drinking departments of the Government—but I can’t guarantee that
her skirts will be below her knees. There are no long skirts left in
London to-day, and no stockings that are not silk. I am not an observant
person, but I have noticed that; I have noticed also that the silk does
not always go the whole way. But perhaps among all your vast array of
relations you know of a nice girl. If so, say so and I will not pursue
the chase, but at the moment more than one agency is being busy about it.
“Must have a pleasant voice and be able to keep it up for an hour without
one gape”—that is what I tell them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account