DEAR JIMMY (she wrote),--You were wrong. Mine was a real murmur.
It's been coming on for some time, but not on your account. It's
murmuring for Basil Fludger. He's on leave, and we fixed things
up last Tuesday. I didn't tell you when I met you, because I was
afraid you wouldn't want to take me to lunch, and I _did_ enjoy
it.
Yours ever, BEATRICE.
If my heart gets really noisy I do hope it won't shout for Beatrice. It
would be so useless.
"Let us go hence, my heart;
she will not hear" (_Swinburne_).
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[Illustration: "HEARD THE LATEST RUMOUR UP FROM THE BACK, GEORGE? WAR'S
GOING TO BE OVER NEXT WEEK."
"HO. WELL, I HOPE IT DON'T UPSET MY GOING ON LEAVE NEXT TUESDAY."]
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