In June Guy came home on leave. He was at Yearsly first, and
then three days in London. He stayed with Grandmother in Campden
Hill Square. I went to see him there and he came up to me. He
wanted to dance, he said, it was so good to be at home. ‘Let
us be jolly,’ he said, ‘I have only two days more.’
So I went with him to a club, somewhere near Bond Street it was.
We had dinner first in Soho, and then we went and danced. I had
no dancing clothes now, except very old ones, but Guy did not
mind.
‘That is the dress you used to wear,’ he said, and he was pleased.
It was like being born again to dance with Guy. The years between,
and the War, seemed to fall away; it was as though all that had
happened was wiped away, and we were back again in 1912 before
the War, before even I was married.
We danced till two o’clock; then Guy saw me home. We would do
it again the next night, we said.
Walter was in the study working, when I got home.
He said:
‘You are very late, you will be tired to-morrow.’