Until I had caught him in flagrante delicto of walking with his arm round the waist of pretty Phyllis Gedge, I had not seen him to speak to for a couple of months.
He came, however, after dinner, looking very sleek and handsome and intellectual, and wearing a velvet dinner jacket which I did not like.
After we had gossiped awhile:-- "You said you were very busy ?" I remarked.
He flicked off his cigarette ash and nodded.
"What at ?" "War poetry," he replied.

"I am trying to supply the real note.

It is badly wanted.

There are all kinds of stuff being written, but all indifferent and valueless.

If it has a swing, it's merely vulgar, and what isn't vulgar is academic, commonplace.