But somehow, it doesn’t say that.
And I cannot decipher how to change it. Please forgive me. I never talk about indelicate things, such as — well — you know. At least, I never talk about them by accident.
Bertie Talks About Bath
Bath is dreadfully boring. I have no idea why you all like it so much.
But save me from those Bath tabbies! Those plump, red-faced, elderly women who always tell one “stand up straight, Bertie!” and “drink your water, Bertie!” and “meet me at 9 o’clock in the morning, Bertie!” and “Dance with my ugly grand-daughter, Bertie!” (Very well, I admit that they don’t phrase the last command with those precise words. But that’s the meaning, I assure you.)
It’s enough to give one chills, even in this weather.
My reply to the tabbies:
2. I’d much rather drink wine, thank you very much.
3. I am standing just as straight as is fashionable. No more, no less.
4. Dancing is too too fatiguing. I’d much rather have more wine.
Those are my ruminations on Bath.
I have never read Miss Austen’s novel Northanger Abbey, so I cannot say whether or not I care that it will be filmed in Ireland. Ireland is a beautiful country, but — oh, you know. It would be quite splendid if only there weren’t so many Irish folk living there.
Yours elegantly, as always,
Bertie the Beau