FROM JACK WINSTON TO LORD LANE
Taormina, Sicily,
January 26.
My dear Montie,
We are at Taormina! When I say that, I want you to realise that we have arrived at the Most Beautiful Place in the world. Nothing less than capital letters can express it. We have had six glorious days in Sicily, and it is fit that these wild ramblings of mine with the Goddess should end here amidst such scenes of loveliness that even the imagination can conjure up nothing more exquisite. For end these ramblings must; to be continued, as I hope (but dare not expect), in a life-journey in which I may wear my own name shared then by her. It is through my dear, kind, little match-making mother that I trust this may be brought about; for my pluck fails me when I think of confessing my imposture to the Goddess.
I told you in my letter from Rome that at the hotel there I found a forwarded letter from the mater, saying that on account of the continued rain and cold she and the inevitable Barrows had determined to leave Rome suddenly and go to Naples, perhaps to Sicily, in search of sunshine. She added that she had been worried about me, as she had not
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