six o'clock in the morning
Your Chris . It is this silence here , this absurd peaceful sunshine , and the placid Grafin , and the bland unconsciousness of nature that I find hard to bear . _ Berlin , Wednesday , July 29th _ . My own little mother , It is six o'clock in the morning , and I 'm in my dressing-gown writing to you , because if I do n't do it now I shall be swamped with people and things , as I was all yesterday and the day before , and not get a moment 's quiet . You see , there is going to be war , almost to a dead certainty , and the Germans have gone mad . The effect even on this house is feverish , so that getting up very early will be my only chance of writing to you . You never saw anything like the streets yesterday .