In his pinched chirography, he wrote: —was one of the rare occasions in which I had to intercede between a laureate and the press. It may be true that Craig drinks—I do not know yet—but if it is true, his resultant behaviour could damage us and ruin him. The Knut Hamsun incident still haunts me. We shall see how matters develop tonight. He read over what he had written, and was about to put the pen back in its holder when he decided to add a paragraph less speculative and more factual. The Royal Banquet has been moved up to tonight, which is December 3, and will formally inaugurate Nobel Week. Except for the afternoon of the climactic Ceremony, and the Town Hall dinner that follows it, the Royal Banquet, highly exclusive and dominated by the presence of the King, is often the most memorable social event of our winter season. I remember that after he had received the prize for literature in 1923, William Butler Yeats, the Irish poet, wrote of the Banquet, ‘I, who have never seen a court, find myself before the evening is ended moved as if by some religious ceremony.’ I trust that this year’s winners will be similarly impressed. Carefully, Jacobsson blotted the page, closed the green ledger, and placed it in the middle drawer of his desk. With an indistinct complaint, he stood up, pulled on his formal jacket, and then started for the bedroom to find the decorations that he must wear.
