the idea was that i would have dinner with von and then go home with him, do my work there, and then come home at a respectable time. what happened was that after dinner i got a lecture about my extravagant expenditure, was bought a bar of toblerone to help the lecture go down more easily, went to his room and read robert aickman (von: are you reading stories?) and fell asleep, so that when i woke at twenty past midnight i had to decide whether to go home. it was a twenty-five minute walk, and past midnight, sure to be cold. von and i live in opposite directions of the yard, and it would save me time to stay over and go directly to class the next day. plus, i had all my books with me (because i had meant to do my work there.) and von's couch was quite comfortable and i was all wrapped up in blankets and didn't want to lift a limb. but i hadn't yet done the translation for class and knew i would just go to sleep at von's. so i drag myself home and now having consumed a few kettles of tea and thawed out somewhat i go to the life of st aethelthryn, whose name is considerably difficult to spell, and about which translation denis, being the gentleman, has agreed to pretend not to scorn and scoff.