The most beautiful place! It makes you think of ENglish places that you read about, for there are hedges and walls and gates that lock, and lots of separate little houses for the gardeners and people.
The color is repellent, almost revolting; a smoldering unclean yellow, strangely faded by the slow-turning sunlight.
I can see a stange, provoking, formless sort of figure, that seems to skulk about behind that silly and conspicuous front design.
I lie here on this great immovable bed- it is nailed down, I believe- and follow that pattern about the hour.
The faint figure behind seemed to shake the pattern, just as if she wanted to get out.
I don't like to look out of the winows even - there are so many of those creeping women, and they creep so fast.