For the better part of the past year, I lived a few hours at a time with Virginia in [amazon 0156619121 inline]. I laughed a lot. I quarreled with her sometimes. I thought, oh! You think that too! when she was uncertain of her writing. The last few pages I lived through the Battle of Britain with her, and up until the last couple of months I could not imagine her killing herself. She talks often of wanting ten more years. But then, her homes in London bombed, her favorite walks, her country refuge more a prison than anything else, with her old London life gone. And a touch of palsy in her hand. I was so sorry to lose her voice. But I don't think she would have liked the post-war world so much.