I have had a busy week since I have been back. Monday I dined with
George at his flat. A man's dinner to meet some French politicians who
are over here for a few days. I told you I was determined to make Mrs
Housman's acquaintance, and I have. I had luncheon on Tuesday with Jimmy
Randall, a city friend of mine. You don't know him. He knows the
Housmans intimately. I told him I wanted to know them and he asked me to
meet them last night.
We dined at the Carlton, Randall, the Housmans and myself. I think she
is even more beautiful than I thought before. I couldn't take my eyes
off her. She was in black, with one row of very good pearls. I never saw
such eyes. Housman is too awful; sleek, fat and common beyond words, but
sharp as a needle. He has an extraordinary laugh, a high, nasal chuckle,
and says, "Ha! ha! ha!" after every sentence. They have asked me to
dinner next Tuesday. I will write to you about it in detail. Mrs H. is
charming. There is nothing American or Colonial about her, but she is
curiously un-English. I can't understand how she can have married him. I
caught sight of her again this morning at the Oratory, where I always go
if I am in London on Sundays, for the music. Randall told me she is
very musical, but I didn't get any speech with her.
The flat looks quite transformed with all the Paris things. They are the
greatest success.
Yours,
G.
_Wednesday, May_ 12_th._