Monday, Sept. 12 DEAREST, Isn’t that an address! Did you ever hear anything so delicious? Windy Willows is the name of my new home, and I love it. I also love Spook’s Lane, which has no legal existence. It should be Trent Street, but it is never called Trent Street except on the rare occasions when it is mentioned in the Weekly Courier – and then people look at each other and say, ‘Where on earth is that?’ Spook’s Lane it is – although for what reason I cannot tell you. I have already asked Rebecca Dew about it, but all she can say is that it has always been Spook’s Lane, and there was some old yarn years ago of its being haunted. But she has never seen anything worse-looking than herself in it. However, I mustn’t get ahead of my story. You don’t know Rebecca Dew yet. But you will – oh, yes, you will! I foresee that Rebecca Dew will figure largely in my future correspondence. It’s dusk, dearest. (In passing, isn’t ‘dusk’ a lovely word? I like it better than twilight.
