Alas! I find that I cannot break myself of reading the newspapers, and
reading them eagerly. It is all the fault of that nasty affair in
Servia. I have a dim recollection that I was very flippant about it in
my last letter to you. After all, woman proposes and politics upset her
proposition. There seems to be no quick remedy for habit, more's the
pity. It is a nasty outlook. We are simply holding our breaths here.
July 30,1914.
This will be only a short letter--more to keep my promise to you than
because I feel in the mood to write. Events have broken that. It
looks, after all, as if the Servian affair was to become a European
affair, and that, what looked as if it might happen during the Balkan
War is really coming to pass--a general European uprising.
It is an odd thing. It seems it is an easy thing to change one's
environment, but not so easy to change one's character. I am just as
excited over the ugly business as I should have been had I remained near
the boulevards, where I could have got a newspaper half a dozen times a
day. I only get one a day, and this morning I got that one with
difficulty.
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