T. E. Lawrence Correspondence – Page 315

To H.Williamson 338171 A/c Shaw R.A.F. Mount Batten Plymouth. £8.1X.30 Dear H.W. It is even as you say; autumnal weather. I wish I knew what was the matter with me. Some unformed impulse keeps me in camp. I am always putting in passes, and saying " I will go out this week-end"; and when the time comes I cannot get into breeches & puttees, so the bike rusts in the garage and I moon about the water's edge in camp, dreaming or dipping inconsequentially into books. It has come to this, that I feel afraid and hesitant outside. The camp itself is like a defence to me, and I can't leave it. I think I have been outside three times this (year, deleted) summer. As for the speed-boat, that is joyous, when it goes; but except to take other people about I never start it. I am like a clock whose spring has run down. I hope you will not hate the U.S.A. So many people do, whereas it all sounds to me so strong and good. Canada less so, but then I like towns, because only by contrast with cities do trees feel homelike, or seas look happy. Will they send this rot on? Probably not. Have patience with me, when you come back, and sooner or later we will meet and talk, without the bike waiting on the kerb outside. Did I ever say how good the Village Book was? Like stew- ed fruit(your men) and cream, your country. They blended into a perfect symphony; only I wanted some women in it, too. There was a lack of youth. Yours TSB