![]() ![]() He heard the news while visiting his family in Chicago in a telegram from a mutual friend, dated DecemChannon has written on the back ‘Le coeur case’ - the broken heart – his distress manifestly such that he has misspelt cassé. It appears to have been a crushing blow for Channon. ![]() In February 1931, Viscount Gage married Imogen ‘Mogs’ Grenfell. Mrs Kipling is an intelligent plain little woman but much easier to talk to than most writers’ wives. I got them both on to politics and Mrs Kipling, good old Tory, regretted that all the power in England was no longer in the hands of 40 families as it had once been. He is at his best in his descriptions of action. With a wealth of gesture he described in vigorous, colourful English the entire ritual - we could almost hear the moans of the dying horses and smell the bloodstained sawdust. He talked to me all afternoon and was very vivid in his descriptions of bullfights, which he had evidently relished. He is brown and a little dirty, and clumps of hair protrude from his ears. He is a tiny apelike simian little man with incredible eyebrows of great bushiness and deep endless brown eyes. Portrait of novelist and poet, Rudyard Kipling - Channon described him as 'a tiny apelike simian little man with incredible eyebrows of great bushiness and deep endless brown eyes'Īn enormous Saturday-to-Monday party at Fairlawne. ![]() I had to hurry to catch the last train to London. ‘Thank you,’ he said politely, and he conducted me down to the library and we discussed life and love until midnight. The old priest, who is, of course, one of the most charming and learned men in the world, removed one of his slippers (red heel and a large buckle) and smartly struck me on my naked buttocks.Īt first I did not mind, but at about the tenth or eleventh blow, my flesh tingled and I got up, flushed and embarrassed. ‘You must let down your trousers.’ I undid them and let them slip down to my feet. I began to wish I had not come, and quivered with nervousness, but my sense of humour wedded to a love of adventure triumphed. He led me upstairs, through his bedroom and into a chapel, full of blatant images etc. ![]() Laughingly I consented, one should really always do everything once, especially since it hurts no one else. I was very nervous, and more than a little drunk (his Lenten fare had been uneatable and I had drunk too much burgundy). Timidly he led the conversation to flagellation, and told me that he longed to beat me, adding that my having been so late for dinner would serve as a pretext! We had a most delightful conversation and I confessed to him my every temptation: He was sympathy and wisdom itself - at first: Then suddenly the conversation became charged with purport and I knew the old priest wanted to seduce me. I went to Richmond by Underground to dine with Montague Summers: I was very late - over half an hour. I am very attractive naked, as handsome as my face is dull. Noticing this I delayed it, putting on first, my socks, shoes and suspenders. Later as I dressed the friend re-entered, she said she was a virgin. She left us and darling Tallulah lay in my arms. Tallulah was soon naked, I next, the friend last. We had to spell out words and anyone finishing one was forced to remove an article of clothing. A friend of hers was there and we played a game called ‘Stripping Words’. Why? Much later on we went to Two Uncles’ restaurant and at four returned to her flat. Later Tallulah and I went to the Embassy the beau monde of London seemed surprised at our entrance together. I sat in her dressing room and watched the lovely pink creature change, pink stays, pink flimsy garments, pink tummy, all the necessary ingredients for a young blood’s delight. By chance Tallulah Bankhead was disengaged. My nose led me to the St Martin’s Theatre. But at eleven, sleep refusing to share my bed, and the fluids of life warming in my flesh, I arose, dressed and went out into the wet London night adventure-bound. ![]()
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