The surf is dashing almost under our windows, dashing in from the open sea whose other shore is Spain. B. B. spoke truly when he said that the chief objection to America is that it is “eight days from shore”. I was what they term “called” this morning, by an obviously male knock at 7.30. I had to draw my own curtains and prepare my own bath. But the hot rolls at breakfast made up! The storm has been too violent for us to go out. A Mr. and Mrs. Fearing came to lunch — he an awfully fat, intensely jolly man, something like Terence Bourke. He told a good story of