Make yourself as comfortable in Chelsea as you can, he answered on 4. 8. 17. As at present advised, we return on Wednesday fortnight, the 22nd. . . .
The days here speed past on wings, thanks to their monotony. Waters at 8; again at 10.30; a bath or baths at 11; lunch at 1.30; a jog-trot drive from 3 to 4; bridge; dinner at 7.30; massage at 9; all this with unfailing regularity. I believe far more in my masseuse (she lives at this house) than in my doctor. It will amuse your father to hear that this genius is prescribing for me in the matter of rheumatism, neuritis and fibrositis in the arm without having once had my shirt off! I make suggestions, at the instance of the masseuse, and he promptly annexes them as his own:
"Tell me, doctor, may I do so-and-so?"
"You are to do so-and-so; and this very day!"
The doctors here generally have the very worst name; but there is nobody to pull them up or show them up.
The place teems with people whom I know and don't want to see.
The rain it raineth every day and all day. . . .
My cure is now over, he writes on 12. 8. 17; it has been long and costly; it has done me no
