Dearest Diary,
Mr. Adam, it appears, is from North Africa and recently moved to this bit of the country. He is quite unaccustomed to our culture and upbringing. And he again invited me to tea. I have come to fear the thought of such a gathering for he has asked some rather unique questions that confuse me so. His English is not quite fluent and so I'm sure that some discrepency is in the translation, but I simply do not understand what he means by one question in particular, and I've certainly no mind to beg clarification. I may simply ignore the invitation once more and let that be the end of my association with the gentleman.
But I wonder what you know of a gentleman by the name of Barrymore. Barrymore is not in fact the gentleman's name, but I understand his business to be of the theatre. Anything further about him, I have not had the pleasure to inquire. So at the moment, I shall call him Barrymore. And with any hope for a more dignified profession, I shall attach the title of Lord to his name. For Lord Barrymore's letter displayed finer penmanship than that of Mr. Adam.
As for the services tonight, I shall hope to bump into one of those stately chaps who seem to arrive unaccompanied on a regular basis. If not today, then perhaps tomorrow...
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