During the weeks that Mary Lovell has been in Nairobi, she has spent each day but one at my house on the Ngong Racecourse. We have become friends.
She tells me that people are interested in the things I have done in my life which were not written about in my own book West with the Night. I cannot think why this should be so, but I accept her assurances, and have made my collection of papers available to her.
Day after day, I have listened while she read these papers to me. I have remembered times long past and people long dead. And when she has asked me I have tried to tell her about them. But some memories I have kept for myself as everyone must. And because she understands this I have tried to help her, as she – in her own way – has helped me.