Darling, Darling Penelope. From this day on there will be a discernable spring in my step. Last night I dreamed that I was spoon-feeding you tripe in bed and I cannot beleive that this has become almost a reality. Please don't be too hard on WWJ. There was talk of a visitation round here, but the character was described to me as a stocky masculine blonde woman who was terribly pissed and incoherent. I think that this must have been Winston.

Please ensure that you have the happiest of new years. I'll call you on the electric telephone from the Vicar Inn.