Belly of the Beast

May 4th.

My dear Douglas, how my silver tongue precedes me.

What fortune has been bestowed upon me, all thanks to my own doing.

I have recently acquired a property just south of Keswick, smack bang in the heart of the countryside.

The manor is gorgeous beyond meager words.

I very much wish I had your artistic eye so that I could illustrate it for you here.

Alas, you will have to merely trust me, as you have done through many a quarrel.

There are two master bedrooms, two more modest-sized ones for the children, three bathrooms, and a lavish open area for guests to mingle if I so desire to have them round.

And let me tell you, it is absolutely spotless.

Not a hair or inkling of dust astray.

The grass in the garden is perfectly trimmed to the length of a fingernail, and I have yet to see a single pest.

I might just forget what a housefly looks like.

I must admit I've fallen into a small obsession to find even something wrong with the place.

It's incredibly pure and pristine, as if nobody had ever set foot in this place before I or my wife.

I'd liken it to an angel's belly, if the Lord, of course, encumbered them with such things as hunger.

Oh, Douglas, this was better than any deal even you could strike up.

I even undercut the listed price by five thousand pounds.

May I allow myself a rare moment of self-appreciation and sing my own praises.

I can be quite the businessman.

I am quite the businessman.

I will continue to write to you every so often, so you do not feel left out of my newest, warmest endeavor yet.

You must come and visit someday from your restless life in London.

I am my dear friend, kindly yours, W. Brooks.