My guess is that it'll end next year--a guess subject to revision, of course, by events that can't be foreseen.
But as I said before--to come back to Christmas.

Mrs.Page and I send you and Mrs.House our affectionate good wishes and the hope that you keep very well and very happy in your happy, prosperous hemisphere.

We do, I thank you.

We haven't been better for years--never before so busy, never, I think, so free from care.

We get plenty to eat (such as it is in this tasteless wet zone), at a high cost, of course; we have comfortable beds and shoes (we spend all our time in these two things, you know); we have good company, enough to do (!!), no grievances nor ailments, no ill-will, no disappointments, a keen interest in some big things--all the chips are blue, you know; we don't feel ready for halos, nor for other uncomfortable honours; we deserve less than we get and are content with what the gods send.