They wrote it this week: The day the art dealer exploded ... literally
Extracts from diaries and letters written between April 20 and April 26
1915, Rye, Sussex
[Lady Cynthia had travelled from London to visit her husband, Beb Asquith, before his regiment was deployed to the Western Front.] Beb and I dined at a little table by ourselves. I could not realise the reality of the situation that I had really come to see Beb off to the front, the setting of that lovely old inn full of soldiers and everything was so extraordinarily theatrical. It is difficult to recognise one’s own identity these days; the whole of life has become such a melodrama that one always feels in a dream...