WAR He did not remember me but did when I reminded him of the air raid. The cafe was in an uproar and everyone drank to celebrate their escape. Edgar and I saw the daylight air raid from our attic windows. It was a fine sight, and they were in wonderful formation, like a flock of birds surrounded by the little white puffs of smoke of the British guns. One day I became so ill that I went home to my Father and Mother, who, although they disapproved of me, still liked to see me. My family lived at Acton and during the night I had a dream. I dreamt of noises which tapped and tapped. Sud- denly I woke up and looked out of the window. I saw what I thought were fireworks, a big golden pen- cil diving to the earth. I came into my Father and Mother's room and said, " Please wake up, I think there must be a Zeppelin falling down." My Father said, " Go to sleep and don't disturb me/' I said, " You must wake up and come into the garden," and he did and we saw it break in half and come down in a rain of golden showers. This was the Cuffley Zeppelin. We visited the poetess, Anna Wickham, some- times. She lived in a beautiful old house in Hamp- stead. It had an apple orchard and Dick Turpin had lived there once. There we met Richard Aldington and his wife. They were Imagist poets. Richard had known Henri very well and had some of his work. In 19.13 j when I first met Anna Wickham, I had influenza very badly. I was living alone and did not want to go home to my family. She was kind ' "