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desperance...Oh, all right, it's not scurvy. But they just had an outbreak on HMS Surprise, and Stephen went ashore for greenstuff and came back with a sloth. This is a Very Important Moment, in the history of this house (our clubhouse, as I'm sure you know, is named The Debauched Sloth; we have example everywhere), so scurvy is much on my mind.
And I do, it would seem, have a cold. It appears to be a deconstructed, anfractuous cold: I had the headache last week and the tight chest after, a sole asthmatic night; last night I barely slept, this morning I slept through the boys' breakfast (! - but fortunately K was at hand to make all good), and today I meant to go to the library and grind haggis-meats and make marmalade and all sorts, and all I want to do is drowse on the couch with Stephen and Jack and occasionally Barry.
And I do, it would seem, have a cold. It appears to be a deconstructed, anfractuous cold: I had the headache last week and the tight chest after, a sole asthmatic night; last night I barely slept, this morning I slept through the boys' breakfast (! - but fortunately K was at hand to make all good), and today I meant to go to the library and grind haggis-meats and make marmalade and all sorts, and all I want to do is drowse on the couch with Stephen and Jack and occasionally Barry.