ld of correspondence again.

They sat round a little table under the cedar trees amusing themselves
with these experiments, and after that Cecily and Mr. Britling and the
two small boys entertained themselves by drawing pigs with their eyes
shut, and then Mr. Britling and Teddy played hard at Badminton until it
was time for tea. And Cecily sat by Mr. Direck and took an interest in
his accident, and he told her about summer holidays in the Adirondacks
and how he loved to travel. She said she would love to travel. He said
that so soon as he was better he would go on to Paris and then into
Germany. He was extraordinarily curious about this Germany and its
tremendous militarism. He'd far rather see it than Italy, which was, he
thought, just all art and ancient history. His turn was for modern
problems. Though of course he didn't intend to leave out Italy while he
was at it. And then their talk was scattered, and there was great
excitement because Herr Heinrich had lost his squirrel.

He appeared coming out of the house into the sunshine, and so distraught
that he had forgotten the protection of his hat. He was very pink and
deeply moved.

"But what shall I do without him?" he cried. "He has gone!"

The squirrel, Mr. Direck gathered, had been bought by Mrs. Britling for
the boys some month or so ago; it had been christened "Bill" and adored
and then neglected, until Herr Heinrich took it over. It had filled a
place in his ample heart that the none too demonstrative affection of
the Britling household had left empty. He abandoned his pursuit of
philology almost entirely for the cherishing and adoration of this busy,
nimble little creature. He carried it off to his own room, where it ran
loose and took the greatest liberties with him and his apartment. It was
an extraordinarily bold and savage little beast even for a squirrel, but
Herr Heinrich had set his heart and his very large and patient will upon
the establishment of sentimental relations. He believed that ultimately
Bill would let himself be stroked, that he would make Bill love him and
understand him, and that his would be the only hand that Bill would ever
suffer to touch him. In the meanwhile even the untamed Bill was
wonderful to watch. One could watch him forever. His front paws were
like hands, like a musician's hands, very long and narrow. "He would be
a musician if he could only make his fingers go apart, because when I
play my violin he listens. He is attent