When I first read it I As for Alice: after that one brief, bitter epistle, she never did not now whether to weep or throw the paper away from wrote to me at all. me in temper. In the end I burned the thing, and only hope you will have sense enough to burn this one, likewise. Chapter 6 'You ask me to be happy on your behalf. Nance, you must The months, that year, seemed to slide by very swiftly; for, know that I have always only ever had your happiness at of course, we were busier now than ever. We continued to my heart, more nearly even than my own. But you must work our hit - the song about the sovereigns and the winks - know too that I can never be happy while your friendship all through the spring and summer, but there were always with that woman is so wrong and queer. I can never like new songs, new routines to labour over and perfect, new what you have told me. You think you are happy, but you orchestras to grow familiar with, new theatres, and new are only misled -and that woman, your friend "so-called", is costumes.
