Mes amis,

What a strange day you have had on your message board today. During the afternoon I had to send out for additional raspberry creams so that I could read the posts of mere de Gracie Even so, I retired to my chaise after each one, and Miss Angleterre so kindly brought the cool cloth. By late in the day, she had resorted to making me a cup of tea, and I had resorted to drinking it. Miss Angleterre thinks that tea is the sovereign remedy for all that ails humanity. Perhaps I have been remiss in not inviting the Faculty Senate and the Administration to meet around Miss Angleterre's best bone-china tea pot. A few cups of her most excellent Earl Grey, and much could be accomplished, n'est ce pas? Of course you all know that I believe in the powers of champagne, but there are certain people with whom I am not willing to share mine. I am not so kind-hearted as Miss Angleterre. Let them drink Brut.

It seems that the propaganda arm of le professeur T. has been most effective in some circles. However, I doubt that this mother of Gracie has accidentally come across our meeting place, nor has accidentally decided to address us. One is always most suspicious of some posts. However, one is led to think on one question: are we in fact still in the mode of la guerre? Is it time to change our battle cry (although I of course will not change my name.) Have we in fact achieved enough of a victory, though a bloody and hard-fought one, with so many grevious losses, but can we yet say that we are now attempting to hold the ground? Should our work now be to slowly and quietly win back and maintain, or can that even be done? Is it yet too soon to think of reconstruction? Can le Thames be held at bay and prevented from doing further harm? One wishes this were so, but here at maison de la Guerre, my information is not always complete, and I do not know.

Ah, my troubled heart. Thank goodness for the friendship of you all, and the companionship of my devoted staff, and of Dervish and Dominique, who are quietly at my feet as I write. I long for the day when the search for a new chauffeur is my greatest worry.

bon soir,

M. de G.