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Show My Thoughts Are Not Still 273 There was frustration and irritation, however, when they eastern Scotland on the Firth of Forth. Harold met with a pos stopped on Thanksgiving Day (November 26), at a seaport in sible investor. Here is how Madelyn wrote about her day: Harold left before eight for his appointment. I shopped, looking at beautiful woolens, silver, china, linens. Everything but a gray cashmere sweater for me I left for Harold to see. After lunch, at which I expected constantly to be joined by him, I left a note telling him exactly my schedule. At 2:40: I arrived at the shopping Export department of Forsythe's where I had all the gifts and selections awaiting his choice. He had been there, but gone back to the hotel. Foolishly I still thought he would be coming. He was at the barber shop: he did need a haircut badly, and so I finished the packing. When he returned there was no time for but for me to return to pay for the sweater. I wanted to show him anything He did not even know that things. But there were mistakes. frustrating. Halfway through The early darkness here is our trip to Glasgow darkness closed in. All the way to Prestwick was dark. No mention was made of our contact ing Vance Tingey, the elder in charge in Glasgow whose name and phone number we had obtained from the British Mission. By the time we reached the airport hotel I was so bitterly homesick and depressed I could not bear the mention of Thanksgiving. Harold did mention it indirectly; he said there was no turkey on the menu. My fatigue was so great that as soon as I touched the pil low I was asleep. Perhaps an hour later, Harold put one of his pillows under my ulcerous ankle, and so ended my rest. When he was finally settled I put on my robe and and hied myself into our large bathroom. There, my coat propped on straight chair, my feet elevated against the high tub, I began my book on European history. [Was she reading one or writ ing one?] So I finished my strange Thanksgiving Day. There is no hope for me in this life except to lose myself, to expect from nothing anybody.4 a |
