‘What is it, Sergeant?’
He laid a buff slip on my desk.
‘Oh bother!’
It ran:
‘Please state whereabouts of 50,000 fur caps dispatched by you three months ago from Harbin. Urgent.’ To which I answered:
‘Enquiries still pending.’
I wondered: who was the most capable and energetic person in Harbin to whom I could safely entrust the task of moving heaven and earth to find the 50,000 fur caps. And suddenly my mind recalled the little red-leather book with the dates of receipt and dispatch of correspondence, and I decided that the most capable and energetic person in Harbin was Aunt Teresa. I found it quite an easy matter to write to Aunt Teresa, because I thought that Sylvia might read my letter, although I found it difficult to write to Sylvia direct. At last, unable to bear the torture of suspense any longer, I wrote a letter to her, entreating Sylvia by all that was holy in the world to write to me at once. To this I had a telegram from her. Not a word about her having written or of her going to do so now.
‘Sorry. Love. Sylvia.’
That was all.
And then, one morning, came her letter. Her handwriting was like her nature: those thin, swift, naïvely, irresponsibly confident strokes seemed to say: here am I, Sylvia Ninon Thérèse Anastathia Vanderflint, a woman of the world! There was, moreover, an unconscious kittenish quality about her curves, but the exaggerated length and confidence of the fine stroke was splendid out of all proportion.
I loved her letters. What attracted me was that she did not even pretend to think that her unintellectuality could be anything but interesting to me, an intellectual. Her style was inspirational. Obviously she never troubled to read through her writing, and the capitals she used recognized no law save that of impulse. Sylvia would put a dot inconsequently after any word, just as the fancy took her; or suddenly she would put a dash with two dots beneath it. She would suddenly — for no apparent reason — insert a mark of interrogation, or more often three at a time. This freedom, this utter disregard of punctuation and the fact that I was, in a way, a man who specialized in prose, delighted me exceedingly. Enclosed was another envelope marked, ‘Please read carefully!’
Dear Alexander. Your Letter was Lovely and cheery and beautifully Long and for once you were not in a ‘Temper’? and also that you are well and happy. Are you delighted to be back? It must be Perfect now. flowers etc. and so forth in full Bloom. I do want to come and see you. But what can I do if I run away my Father will run after me. Mr Brown has just come back from there and he said. ‘It is perfectly glorious down there. the Harbour is a Picture.’ He came to see Papa about the Marshal’s autograph which he wants to sell at an American Red Cross auction. I asked about you. I said you asked me to come boating. ‘Oh,’ said He, ‘he will drown you.’ I was disapp. when you did not send me the little bead bag. If you really wanted to see me Love finds a way. Your weak excuse ‘Broke’ I absolutely ignore. Back of my hand to you 6 Times. There is a Porter here and he came in about 10–15 days ago to see Mr Brown and I asked him about you and he told me. I won’t mention names. but he told me you had gone off with a woman on the train when you left us, and that He was sorry. Why oh why are you doing such to me. Can it be possible George Hamlet Alexander? knowing perfectly well in your heart that I would not be at the train. If such is the Case, don’t you dare write me or even wish to see me again. I would write and ask your General if he knew about such. tho’ on second thoughts you at Least have the Honour I hope to tell me from Your heart. Have you ever thought in your mind. how Little you study me. now just think. Very Probably the Wonderful woman you travelled with, is taking my Place now. You forbid me to write, speak or visit any of my men Friends. I must slave at Home while you enjoy yourself in the Army???? What beautiful exclamations. Admire them please. Maman is always laid up and Mme Vanderphant is also ill and my Poor Nerves. are quite scattered [she wrote] and I am so tired of sick Individuals. Mr Brown is going to Omsk and I want to run away with him I think. Seeing the interest you take in me and how you study me I had better go. I’ve told you once well to be correct 79,000 times my intentions towards you. ‘The many times I’ve told you.’ I can quite see you never Listen to anything I tell you just Like water on a ducks back. and you are getting more and more selfish. Words or Letters. nothing could explain how angry I am with you.
Very Disapp. with you.
Good Bye.
I had in my letter, referring to the difficulty of extracting a reply from her, said she was ‘impossible’. And now she signed herself:
Sincerely yours
Sylvia the Impossible Woman.
PPPSSSS.
and I am not Kitten.
Enclosed in the outer envelope was another letter.
Alexander Darling Prince of Angels. You see how very angry I am with you and you can Prepare for Punishment. This is just a tiny note to wish you Very many happy returns of Tomorrow the 27th You Little treasure. How many years are you now? 21 Yes No. Yes. And I am writing to tell you how very disgusted I feel with the Rotten Idiots of Photo foolery People. My Photos are not finished how disapp. you will be Alexander. I simply cried with vexation and Berthe shrieked with laughing, not because Photographs were not done, but because of my delightful ‘face.’
Thank you so very much for the lovely Chocolates the only disapp. was I thought I would find a beautiful Long letter inside. never mind I was happy just the same. I know you will forgive me Darling about the Photos. You will be sorry I am ill. and then my poor Brother in Flanders. And I have never written to your dear Lovely friend Major Beastly. What a dreadful Person I am. I have a Dear little Bedroom and also a sitting Room to myself tiny but sweet so I can have you to Tea. How lovely says He to himself. goo. goo hoo. I miss you awfully. I would like to be crumpled in your arms and close to your lips, but so far and yet so near. But you will be back in three months, Darling for all those kisses. and no quarrels. Are you Listening. There is such a lot I want to say. The weather is beautiful, I am not very busy. and I am not flirting hope you are the same, Princie. Depression seems to haunt me lately. I do not know why. There is certainly something making me so very unhappy. What is it Alexander. I’ve nobody but you to talk to. Oh yes! I have a Lovely dog called Don. You must see him. Are you listening to me. Your last letter sent my heart wild. Darling I long to see you. Alexander, your letters make me cry now. I really do hate being parted from you, still I am always and shall be ̣̣ yours. I will write again as it is awful just now, all nerves and maman stupid. Alexander bless bless bless you and Please Please do not worry I love you dearly and I am True but oh so Lonely. not seen you 3 mths and then just Two days perhaps. only time to see if you got your spurs on??? You Fairy Boy. You never mentioned your holidays did you? had nice time Yes. No. Thank you. My letter Alexander is not very interesting. so sorry. I cannot tell you anything about the Easter holidays because I had to remain in doors and amuse myself with the gramophone. How dreary it was and the wretched, awful weather was appalling. It poured cats and dogs. rats and mice and so on etc. I am so very sorry you were ill, how did you manage such you naughty naughty child and here I am waiting for you to come and see me. Your spurs and your blue eyes. ‘The back of my hand to you.’ Oh and your Hankie. do you really like it tell me. Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Yes. You little Fairie Princie. I will write you again this week. One of your photos has disappeared from my Room. I’ve made fruitless efforts for the thief. To-morrow I am going out to buy a frame for your Princie Face. I must be off to sleep now. and keep away from ‘Pond’ you funny child, and do not seal your letters you are horrid. Good night. I am still annoyed; they all warn me against you. Oceans of devoted love and long lingering kisses. Good night little Bébé. Accept all my beautiful Love and lots of sunshine kisses. Cheerio little cat [Whether it was cat or cad I could not quite decipher, and so felt a little disconcerted.]