sorry about the delay, a cusomer was taken ill on this post at charing cross. saturday saw ed and pete moving, not as planned into the wonderous searle street, but into my familial home. if i ever meet the landlady or her son i shall have a few choice phrases of anglo-saxon invective on hand, and so should you. anyway, i got infeasibly drunk on saturday night at a sparkling house warming, so my relentless three weeks without a lie in regime continues. i still haven't bought my new coat, and i now think i never will, as it is in fact a tent constructed for the prussian army (close escape eh!). i had better be off to write notes and do a few questions on the chapters i read on the way home.