meet a pawpaw. I had always vaguely associated it with a hula-hula, which, I believe, though I may be wrong, is a kind of straw skirt that Hawaiian girls dance in. No, I think I am wrong—that is a lava-lava.
At any rate, all these things are very cheering after England. I can’t help thinking that it would brighten our cold island life if one could have a breakfast of “bacon-bacon,” and then go out clad in a “jumper-jumper” to pay the books.
Suzanne was a little tamer after breakfast. They had given me a room next to hers with a lovely view right out over Table Bay. I looked at the view whilst Suzanne hunted for some special face cream. When she had found it and started an immediate application, she became capable of listening to me.
“Did you see Sir Eustace?” I asked. “He was marching out of the breakfast room as we went in. He’d had some bad fish or something and was just telling the head waiter what he thought about it, and he bounced a peach on the floor to show how hard it was—only it wasn’t quite as hard as he thought and it squashed.”