What did she lack for happiness?
Nothing that this world can give in the opening twentieth century ...

not even a very good pianola or a motor.

I feel somehow it was almost unfair (in my rage at the inequality of treatment meted out by the Powers Beyond).

Shall not General Sir Petworth Armstrong die in the great debacle of the world-wide War?
I shall see, later.

And yet I feel that this nucleus of pure happiness housed in Kensington Square--or at Petworth Manor--was to the little world that revolved round the Armstrongs like a good radiator in a cold house.