“Mother, dear, don’t fuss over me . . .”

Almost one hundred years ago, this was the young Englishman’s declaration of independence from The Mater:

I don’t really want to have my bed choked with hot-water bottles whenever I sneeze, and be given whiskies and lemon last thing; or to have my suits forever reft away to be cleaned, and all that. If I want a whisky I can ask the butler for it . . .”

Ann Bridge, Illyrian Spring (1935)

You Rang M Lord.jpg

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