As my sojourn on the dark continent draws to a close, I find myself thinking of my return to London and how it ought to be a joyous occasion. Since I am returning ahead of schedule, I have decided that a surprise is in order for my dearest Regina.
My plan is only in the most elementary of stages, and I will require your assistance for the orchestration. An overview of the plan is as follows:
In a few days' time, I will send Regina a letter, explaining that I am sending an authentic Congolese gift to her--a surprise, of course--in advance of my return. Then (and here is where your assistance will begin), items for the care of this "surprise beast" will begin to arrive at her residence. Straw, heavy leather gloves, and substantial portions of meat will be delivered. All shall be accompanied with excessive warnings and instructions about the jungle beast she's inheriting.
At last, a large, aerated crate will arrive, arrayed with all variety of cautions and warnings. We shall have to arrange for all of my family and acquaintances to be there for in the box my beautiful Regina will find me.
It will be the talk of the society pages for weeks--certainly Lord Harpington will eat his hat when he returns from India to discover that his arrival could not possibly compete with mine.
More elaborate instructions will follow as soon as I finalize my departure date. Remember, do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Secrecy and discretion are the key to this ruse. Don't let the gin loosen your lips at the club or all will be for naught. I am counting on you, my friend.
It's a surprise, to look at the date on the calendar today and realise its only two years since I got married. And just over one year since I shattered my heart and his heart. And under one year since we separated. And so much has happened in that(more) time, that it's a surprise to look at the calendar today. (less)