But it will be a frightful hot thing under my clothes, and it's hot enough without that, so I'm not sure.

It depends how much my teeth chatter when I see "the dawn of battle." I've got one more thing before I stop.

I'm going to send you a piece of poetry which the Saadat wrote, and tore in two, and threw away.

He was working off his imagination, I guess, as you have to do out here.

I collected it and copied it, and put in the punctuation--he didn't bother about that.