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[Page 87]
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I have broken my brilliant ascetic record. Up till a few days ago I could boast with pride (& truth) that I had never kissed a girl since I I left Australia. I have been absolutely loyal & true to the girl I left behind me, (Mabel or Viva or Francie or Molly or Ida or Nora or whoever will ultimately take pity on my loneliness). But alas I have fallen at last. But I fought against the temptation to the end. Her name is Ailsa. (Is'nt it a pretty name?) Mind you Im not sure that Im in love with her yet. She is Scotch. Her mothers name is Jean, & she sings Annie Laurie & Mary of Argyle. She has a young brother named Ian & he's a great kid. Fortunately he like me. Ailsa has beautiful blue eyes & long golden hair - naturally curly. She comes to the Church Parade every Sunday morning. As I have to make all the arrangements I generally contrive that she shall sit next to me. He old dad is a good sport. He asks me round to smoke cigarettes & drink iced coffee. Her mother invites me round to tea & to eat scots cakes & shortbread. They have a large garden with magnificent rose beds. Ailsa gave me an armful on Saturday for my tent. I took her for a motor spin along the Nile. Would'nt it be funny after all these years of single blessedness if I (Oh by the bye: How is Jack getting on? Is he really in love? Have you heard from him lately? What is she like? Tell him to write & let me know how it feels to be in love. I have not heard from him for a long time)