Tuesday, September 22, 2009

4 May

A sweet, pining letter from Ernest, begging me to forgive him for his jealousies and grieving that he was unable to see me in my outfit. I am having my coronet dried and will save it to show him when we meet.

Lessons *beastly* today—went on for *hours*. Miss Prism quite intent on me entirely understanding the Pound/Mark exchange rate, and I money holds no interest for me. Indeed, I think it quite vulgar to have any understanding of money at all.

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