I don't bally well think of you as young, though I know your fath everyone else does. I meant--petite. I know girls younger than you used to have children but it seems to me that everything back then was on a shorter span, if you follow me. People died a lot younger, too, what.

Dash it, Dux, you've nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one who caused you pain. Discomfort. Either.

I feel the same way. I keep thinking about it and--yes, it's different and the same all at once. Rather like one's birthday: One looks forward to it all year and yet, it's just a day. One doesn't age the whole year all in one go, what!

And yet, I think we bally well grew up rather a lot today, too.

I think I liked best the part where we were lying together, between. I imagine that's what it's like for husbands and wives.

-J