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Our trip to Kenya

(Sessio 12)

On this trip, nothing seems to go right. I’m sitting in my hotel room, physically sound, but mentally shaken. We have lost Mr. Barrington. The grief weights heavily on my chest.

We left for Port Said on May 12th 1925, sailed through Suez Canal on 13th, and reached Port Aden on the May 19th. It was May 27th when we arrived in Mombasa. We spend the night in a hotel. Our train to Nairobi leaves on saturday May 30th, and our lorries and cars are taken with us, along with our platoon of mercenaries.

In the morning, Mr. Walker, Mr. Griswold and me went to find the store of Ahja Singh. It actually was almost ext to our pier, 200 meters from it. It is a warehouse with a single floor, and the name of the establishment was written on its door  in english, arabic and hindi. We spend the night watching the warehouse and Singh’s home in three watches, but the home is dark and empty and warehouse manned all night.

Next evening, when it’s dark, we take it upon ourselves to pay a visit to both buildings. The home is empty, and has been for a while, but Mr. Borel and Mr. Barrington come back empty handed. At the warehouse we break into a safe, finding papers, receipts and a leather-bound ledger full of test in hindi. It looks like a shipping log, but we can’t say. Luckily, there is an indian fellow working at the hotel, who finds the names of Penhew Foundation, Omar Shaki, Maritime Company, and Ho Fong Imports. Thakur Singh, Brown City, Nairobi is repeated the most.

We board the train on saturday. The view from the window is breathtaking. First, we are presented green plains, with wildlife roaming about. Towards the evening, the plains transform into hills, and towards the night the terrain starts to get rocky. Far ahead we see snow-peaked mountains. The peaceful scenery can only last so long.

When Mr. Moore, Mr. Griswold, Captain Eaton and Mr. Barrington are leaving the back terrace of the train, they glimpse a figure, resembling a human, but burning with a blue flame, flying and gliding along the train. Suddenly it bursts into the train through a window, and an explosion shooks the whole train. Another one enters the train further up. It is as these devils are headed straight for us, ignoring Captain Eaton, and trying to grab Mr. Griswold. Mr. Moore intercepts him, and the thing tackles him down, leaving him burning.

In another compartment, Mr. Borel waves Mr. Walker close to him, does some kind of a trick, and hides them both in a blue smoke. It seemed to save their lives that night. In the hallway, Dr. Jusupov and Dr. Descours grab a bucket of sand each, and succeed in dousing one of the flaming monstrosities, which disappears.

After this, the train is derailed, and we are thrown about like ragdolls. Many people are gravely injured, and our dear friend, Mr. Barrington perishes to his wounds along the riverbed, next to the train wreck.

Not all cars are derailed, and the train can continue towards Nairobi in an hour or two. It is late in the evening, when we arrive in the Nairobi train station. Three people have died and fifteen injured.

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10th session handouts

Newspaper article about investigations concerning the Penhew Foundation:

Penhew_funding_ceased_newspaper

Fragment of a hieroglyphic symbol give by Nyiti of El-Wasta:

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Newspaper article about the fire of Mosque of Ibn-Tulun:

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Night of Horrors

(From the journal of Dr. Lawrence Wentworth Stafford, dated February 7. 1925)

I… I can’t get the images… the sounds.. out of my head. I – I think… I’m not sure what to think. I can’t do this now. I need to sleep.

The sleep won’t come. I can still hear the crunching sounds in my ears… bones? Was the girl eaten above me? The blood… Shower after shower, but I still am covered in blood. I try to scrub it off, but it won’t disappear. I… I need a drink.

If I had read this following passage a year, a month ago, I wouldn’t have given it further thought, just some ramblings of a deranged person, trying to catch attention in any way possible. Nevertheless, I cannot deny what I have seen, heard and experienced – as a man of science, especially one with experience in empirical sciences, cannot disregard my observations completely. I think I’d better start from the beginning.

It was tuesday, when we were ambushed in a cowardly way by that lowly man, al-Sayed, in the Blue Pyramid club. We did, however, emerge victorious, despite the odds stacked against us. Beaten and bloody, we arrived at the Waldorf, and luckily our friend, Mr. Griswold, summoned a doctor immediately. After seeing to our wounds, he left with a hefty wad of pounds and a promise not to talk to anyone. The man deserved his reward, my side is feeling much better – perhaps the injury was not that bad to begin with.

Shane O’Flannagan arrived shortly with news – sadly for us, too late – about the Blue Pyramid and its human deliveries to the countryside. The Penhew Foundation’s mansion, Misr House (Egypt in arabic, mind you) in Essex was their final destination. The Foundation also has a ship, Ivory Wind, whose norwegian captain does enjoy the company of the bottle. The ship is docked in seedy Limehouse, where only middle-eastern stevedores can work on it. The harbourmaster is called Punji Chabout, an indian fellow, as seedy, criminal and evil bastard as the dock he works on.

On the next morning, wednesday February 4th, Griswold tells us that he wants to report our ambush to the police. Me and Dr. Jusupov, or Jones, as he likes to call himself here, hastily convince him otherwise. We might be pulled into the investigation too, and not entirely without a reason. Our departure from London might be delayed, and we might even be detained – it’s better to give the police a thorough investigation notes, when we’re done. We talk about starting the investigation about the obelisk in Bannister Park, and I use my contacts to recruit a few like-minded individuals from the academic world. William and Dr. Paynesworth use the day for resting and healing injuries, while pouring over the pages of Elias’ books. They both finish their own in the evening, and look nauseous. That’s the power of literature!

Mr. O’Flannagan continues to make enquiries, and arrives later with a few crates containing shotguns, explosives and shells. After this delivery, he and Mr. Walker leave to keep an eye on the Ivory Wind, but the ship seems almost deserted – only people there are the three men on guard.

Thursday, February 5th. Dr. Paynesworth left to the library, his goals were to search the local newspapers for information and news about the Penhew Foundation. While he was gone, we started the travel arrangements to our trip to the country, and ordered some supplies for the travel to Egypt too. Later, Dr. Paynesworth arrives, but sadly, his search was in vain and without results. Mr. Griswold had a surprise for us – he had rented two Rolls Royce Silver Ghosts for our excursion. Dr. Jones’ associate, Ivan, comes with us, while the other surly man, Boris, stays behind to keep guard to our things and the safe. William is also left at the hotel, resting and healing his injuries.

rolls royce silver ghost

Friday, February 6th. We start towards Essex, and the automobiles are an absolute pleasure to travel in. The english countryside shows its beauty to us, while the wind tries to snatch away our hats. Brilliant fun! We arrive at Maidon, a small rural town near the Misr house, and sign ourselves in to the Gilded Hen. We rent double rooms in the first floor, all four of them. Misters O’Flannagan and Walker go on a walk to get themselves used to the surroundings, and even pass the road to the mansion. Both times it is being guarded by three men, the road leading to a small island half a mile across. There is only one way to the island, and it’s cut by a swing bridge.

We decide, that our best approach is by a boat, but it has to be in dark, or we’ll be seen far away. There’s an old man Jones by the beach, who rents his boat, equipped with a small outboard motor too – it can fit 8 people in it! Perfect for us. Our cartographer, Dr. Jones, comes up with a cover – we’re mapping the shore and islands here. We leave by nightfall, while Mr. Griswold and Boris stay at the inn – there will be a singalong later on, and Mr. Griswold wouldn’t want to miss it. While we’re rowing towards the island, we see and count six cars driving towards the house during four minutes.

We row to the shore, and Mr. Borel is left there to turn it around for fast departure and to guard it. Sneaking closer we discover seven cars at the front of the house. Dr. Paynesworth spots an obelisk on the other side of the house with his keen eyes, and we sneak along the shore to the other side, in the cover of some woods. Me and Dr. Jones approach the obelisk, as slowly and silently as we can, and discover a brazier some 30 yards from the obelisk. Looking around, there are eight of these at regular intervals, and a ring of torch holders similarly in a ring, but closer to the stone. At the stone we spot chains and manacles on the stone, placed at heights to hold people fast there. I feel my stomach churning while I realise the previous occupants have been clawing at the manacles there. The obelisk is covered in hieroglyphs, but we can’t decipher them.

New cars arrive at the house, a few at a time, until 12 cars are parked out front. We can hear their chatter, their accents and clothes reveal them to be of the higher social circles of London. All the arrivers enter the house. Just after we return to the others, two men come from the house towards the obelisk, plant 8 torches in the holders and light them. In a moment later, they arrive with a wheelbarrow and fill and light the braziers as well. After they’re gone, new cars arrive, now a lorry too – filled with women, who are led inside.

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Some moments later, we hear the sound of gong from the house – on the third ring, the front doors are opened, and men in dark robes emerge from the house – around thirty of them. The gong rings once more, and the men start to walk towards the obelisk. More men emerge from the house, again dressed in dark robes, but these ones have instruments on their hands. At the braziers, the men start their strange chant, play their instruments and sing. At last, our old enemy, al-Sayed walks out of the house, with a decorated sceptre in both hands. Their chant is at least partly arabic, singing for the black pharaoh. Dr. Paynesworth is ready to fire at al-Sayed, but we talk him out of it, for the fear of being discovered immediately. While arguing about this in hushed voices, a woman steps out of the house – completely naked, in some sort of trance, slowly walking towards the obelisk, along the path lined with dark robed men. Then another, and another, four in total.

At the obelisk, the women are chained to the stone with manacles. The braziers burst into larger flames, and suddenly Edward Gavigan walks out of the house, holding a chalice, walking towards the monolith. The guards at the door follow him, while the chanting of the other men quicken. As per our earlier plan, we sneak towards the house, while Dr. Paynesworth stays behind to watch Gavigan and al-Sayed through the scope of his rifle. The house is dark and silent, some rooms filled with the clothes of the now robed people outside. Going through the house we arrive in a great hall at the end, and just as we turn to leave, I realise the fireplace can be moved – there’s a short, messy tunnel leading down underneath the house, to a tunnel where we can hear the crying of women still locked there. We free five prisoners, in various health, some catatonic, but all tired and scared. Four of them are women, one is a man. We bring their out of the tunnel into the house and give them clothes.

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Our plan is the following: Mr. Walker lights the coal in the basement in fire, and fetches Dr. Paynesworth next, they escape with the boat with Mr. Borel. Others of us sneak out of the house, steal the lorry and escape with it with the prisoners. We drive over the bridge, plant explosives there and blow it up, leaving the cultists on their island in their robes. The plan is solid, but it did not take into consideration the things that happened outside the house, while we were inside. I’ve been only able to collect bits and pieces from Dr. Paynesworth about this, but here’s all I know.

Some large, leathery-winged, four-legged bats, the size of cars, flew down from the skies, to the monolith and chanting men. They start devouring the women chained to the obelisk, while the men go crazy around it. There’s chanting, screaming and obscene acts of sex. Dr. Paynesworth fires his rifle without actually hitting anything, and nobody even notices this. We get to the lorry, horrified but somehow able to act, Mr. O’Flannagan climbs to the driver’s seat, Dr. Jones next to him, while I help the prisoners climb to the back. Shane is able to start the engine, but then one of the women starts screaming ear-piercingly loud after wincing and shedding her trance. I try to silence her by covering her mouth, but the horrified woman bites down on my fingers, hard, and bites a piece of my little finger off! Somehow I get her silenced, as the lorry lurches on towards the bridge.

Mr. Walker finds the catatonic Dr. Paynesworth in the forest, and part carries him towards the boat. He’s met halfway by Mr. Borel, and they escape without incident. Meanwhile Mr. O’Flannagan slowly drives towards the gate and its guards. One of them moves to open the gate, and Shane floors the pedal and drives through the gate. We escape!

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But then something large and heavy lands on the top of the lorry. Startled Mr. O’Flannagan steers the lorry into ditch, and the thing is thrown off us, flashing in the headlights as it flies off.  While Shane backs up to the road, suddenly there’s heavy breathing at the back of the car – one of the bats out of hell is there, pushing its ugly head into the car, its heavy breathing hot and smelling disgusting. The women scream, as it snatches something into its jaws – I don’t know what, since I’m laying flat on the floor, eyes closed, trying not to be a target, trying not to move, not to make a sound, fearing for my life. The thing bites down on its prey, and there’s a spray of warm blood. I hear bones crunching, crunching, as someone is chewed and killed within feets of me. The thing stays behind, eating the carcass of its prey, as we finally drive forward and escape the madness and horror.

We stop at the inn, Dr. Jones, who is not soaked with blood like I am, walks quickly in, tells Ivan and Mr. Griswold to pack their things and leave as fast as they can, heading towards London and Waldorf Astoria still tonight. Then Dr. Jones returns to the lorry, and we drive away. We stopped somewhere on the way, leaving the freed prisoners there, mumbling something about an accident, and leaving as fast as we arrived. The others escape with their boat, grab their belongings from the inn and leave for London.

Dr. Paynesworth is in a very bad shape, which is saying quite a lot, since all of us are thoroughly shaken. We only realise how bad the situation is in the morning, when only a handful of us participates in breakfast. Neither Mr. O’Flannagan or Dr. Paynesworth wake up, they only shiver and tremble in their beds.

Tomes from Penhew Foundation basement

Three books and a set of scrolls found from a storage room in Penhew Foundation’s basement:

YE BOOKE OF COMUNICACIONS WITH YE ANGEL DZYON (ARCHAIC ENGLISH)

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:

Leather bound manuscript, 18” x 11½” (medium folio), slightly damaged with some foxing and occasionally irregularly sized pages. No title or author is given on the cover but a frontispiece identifies it as Ye Booke of Comunicacions with ye Angel Dzyon. The manuscript contains text in archaic English and an unknown set of symbols as well as marginal notes in what appears to be Greek.

_Ye Booke of Comunicacions with ye Angel Dzyon

CONTENTS AFTER QUICK SKIMMING:

This book is a loosely organized collection of what can be described, for lack of a better term, as séances between an unnamed medium and an “angelic spirit” identified in the text as Dzyon (or sometimes as Dzyan). The sessions are supposed to transcribe the wisdom of Cehuti, an archangel (?), and are composed of a mixture of divine pre-history, angelic law and magic, confounding cabalistic discussions, and suggestive discussions of how certain humans may be elevated to divinity. The papers that form the text seem to have been collected and organized along specific themes and not chronologically. Some of the portions in the non-English symbols appear to be written contemporaneously with the regular writing but not in the same hand.

The work itself is confused and sometimes self-contradictory. While portions of the English text seem to be translations of the two types of ciphers used, other portions are left untranslated. Certain sections, particularly those dealing with incantations, are heavily annotated in Greek.

QUOTES:

   Casting againe into ye Shew Stone, ye Angel spake, saying unto me much of what passed in long-sunk Atlantis and is spoke of by Cehuti. In those days ye Nephilim walked ye land and payed obeyance to one such as Glune, crowned in laurels and fearful to behold and served by great beasts whose bodies were like a flower with ye head of a serpent. Another angel revered as ye father of this race was Dowlot, who wove ye fibers of creation and undoes them at God’s command, and his mark is ye crystal rod he carries which bearest three sides and is yet round. Ye might of these men was great and they knew much of magic…

— — — — —

   When ye song is played again under winter sky ye one [the Black Bird of the Anemoi] will come to ye learned practicioner. Ye bird subsisteth upon carrion flesh and must be appeased before it will labor at your behalf. Ye hunger of such a one can be slaked with ye body of a single child but it is a cruel servant and will oft clamour for more. Be not hesitant to fulfill such whims as it may carry ye unwary summoner aloft if displeased. When it flies with belly-full it can be of great aid to ye subtle magician and can travel many leagues without tiring.

— — — — —

[Be wary! The one who slumbers is a spirit of the greatest darkness. Call not upon him for the price he demands far exceeds the rewards he grants. Lest ye wish to arouse such a one who dwells in sea-dark chambers and whose very tread maketh the rocks tremble, practice such rites as these at your own peril. Pay heed to one who has suffered much from what he hath seen because his grasp exceedeth his wisdom. My dreams are grave troubled still, years on from such folly, and I fear gravely His eye remaineth upon me still.]


 

THE G’HARNE FRAGMENTS (ENGLISH)

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:

A slim, unadorned, pasteboard-bound work in mediumsixteenmo; 4 ½” wide by 5 ¾” high; 128 pages. The title is printed on both the pasteboard cover (a pale cream, with black ink) and the spine, with the author’s name (Sir Amery Wendy-Smith) printed below the title. No publisher is listed nor is a date of publication given. The production quality and style suggests a small university press or that the author paid for publication himself; the finished product is of inexpensive materials. There are numerous illustrations depicting some sort of cipher or artificial language consisting of haphazardly arranged dots and a scattering of astronomical charts. A hand-written dedication on the title page says “Many thanks for your advice and aid, W-S.” Scattered throughout the text are a few passages underlined in meticulous pencil lines.

_The G'harne Fragments

CONTENTS AFTER QUICK SKIMMING:

This work provides a supposed translation of inscriptions first discovered by British explorer Sir Howard Windrop in a hitherto unknown ruined city in Africa, referred to as “G’harne” by the author. Expanding on Windrop’s earlier translation, Wendy-Smith, claims that the text contains the fragmentary records of a prehistoric, (perhaps even non-human) civilization. Included in the text is an incomplete catalog of the various cities of this unknown civilization (including G’harne) as well as discussions of the cities of other increasingly fanciful civilizations and races. A lengthy passage discusses the fall of the city after the collapse of G’harne’s builders’ civilization and how the survivors were besieged by a race of subterranean creatures. Eventually the city’s builders were able to trap their attackers via some powerful enchantment.

A short chapter presents a labyrinthine catalog of earlier wars between the builders of G’harne and a myriad of implausible races. Another section presents fragmentary star-charts and a catalog of the planets of our own solar system, including a body between Mars and Earth, as well as a host of worlds lying beyond Neptune. A final chapter discusses the city of G’harne itself, as described by Windrop1; a collection of vast, mammoth, eons-old stone blocks worn down by time and forgotten and mostly shunned by the local peoples. Wendy-Smith (like Windrop) never explains by what means he was able to translate the writings of this lost civilization, saving that for a promised future book to be written upon his return from a new expedition to G’harne.

QUOTES:

The third body is the greatest of the home sites in this region of all things, bearing much of worth to our people and in great settlements we inhabit it, sharing much of the southern lands though at time we made war with those we found there or who came after our arrival. The Nath Spheres proved of great worth after the coming of the [untranslatable] and his offspring, laying low his lands and driving them beneath the greatest of waters. Those who built upon the outer worlds pay us great heed and do not long stay upon this our claim and other native animals pay heed.

– – –

In distant ages this attack would have been stopped by the power we control but after the rising of the enslaved ones we were greatly diminished. The great rock worms, lead by [untranslatable, but according to local tribes the leader of the “rock worms” is the being called Shudde M’ell (he who shakes the earth from below)] fears not our tools and trapped the few who remained within the interior of the city. By plan, these unworthy beings were drawn into the great chambers beneath and were trapped by means of the [?] sign, the shape of which carries potent strength. In this way we have bound him and his children here, until such a time that our people are revitalized and can return the amorphous ones into bondage and return to punish those who sought to overthrow our dominion.

– – –

The local mganga who collect the star-stones do say that for a time the site of G’harne was inhabited by a degenerate race of men who came from a distant land. They made sacrifices to the great worms dwelling there and lived in great filth and corruption. They awaited a time when their god, who they called the King of Night, would come from the land of the great water, after being freed from his tomb of stone topped by stones, and lead them back to rule there forever. These terrible men, said not to be of any tribe, lived there for many ages until they were gathered by two princes, one from the north and one from the east, who carried them forth for reasons unknown, perhaps as slaves. This god, the King of the Night (sometimes called the Black King or Lord), is also known as the God of the Bloody Tongue, the God of the Black Wind (by tribes in the Kenya Colony), the Spiraling Worm (in the Belgian Congo), Ndura Oteba, the Sender of Great Illness (Somaliland and Abyssinia). My research indicates that it is a common figure in many African mythologies and seems to show a remarkable diffusion of an obscure Egyptian divinity called ‘Nyarlathotep’.


LIBER IVONIS (LATIN)

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:

A large (25” x 36”) vellum manuscript bound in brass-capped leather. The interior of the work (entitled Liber Ivonis) is in illuminated Latin, accompanied by copious marginal illustrations, miniatures, and decorated initials (most of which seem to consist of a rather fanciful toad or frog). The manuscript binding is in fair condition—some of the brass fittings have been lost, the inside cover has been gouged repeatedly (apparently to remove a book plate, the scraps of which remain, but are totally illegible), and there are recent small scorch marks on the rear cover. The manuscript interior is in excellent condition. The artwork within depicts many strange scenes, some of which are rather disturbing and unlike those found in a typical medieval work. An expert can date the manuscript to the early 13th century, most likely the Sicilian Court of Frederick II. The cover is more recent, probably dating from the early 16th century.

_Liber Ivonis


 

SET OF 15 SCROLLS:

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS:
Six Arabic (A) scrolls:

A1—A fine linen scroll in Arabic, about five inches across, tied with a faded red silk ribbon. It can be dated to the 15th century, most likely originating in Egypt or possibly Tunis. The Arabic text is stylized and illuminated, and the scroll is in excellent condition.

A2—A cracked, partially fire-damaged, piece of parchment, about 15 inches across, mounted on a wax tablet (a method used to preserve particularly fragile texts). The text is in a very shaky hand and can be dated to the 9th century, most likely from Moorish Andalusia.

A3—A vellum scroll in Arabic, about 8 inches across, tied with a faded red silk ribbon. It can be dated to the early 12th century, almost certainly to Egypt.

A4—A papyrus scroll in Arabic, about 8 inches across, untied. It dates from the 8th century, though the writing style is somewhat antique (stylistically similar to the style of the previous century), suggesting the possibility that the author or scribe was from a provincial region, probably in the Arabian Peninsula.

A5—A vellum scroll in Arabic, about 8 inches across, tied with a faded red silk ribbon. The script and material suggests the work is of Egyptian origin, probably mid 15th century.

A6—A badly decayed papyrus scroll, probably from the middle of the early Fatimid Caliphate (10th century).

scrolls-pile2

Four Latin (L) scrolls:

L1—Fragments of a papyrus scroll, written in Latin, pressed between thin glass plates and mounted in a booklet. The language suggests it was written around the time of the early Roman Empire (30-40 A.D.).

L2—A worn vellum scroll in Latin, about 12 inches across, tied with a linen cord. The script suggests it was written in the 12th century; a note at the beginning is in period ecclesiastical Latin while the bulk of the text is in late Imperial vernacular (probably 4th century). Fragments of a leaden seal bearing the image of a lion are preserved.

L3—A parchment scrap with Latin writing, uneven but between 7 and 8 inches across though it tapers at one end due to tearing or breaking. The language and the script used suggest an early medieval author, possibly in the late 8th century, most likely from the Carolingian court.

L4—Linen paper scroll in Latin, about 11 inches across, untied. The language is very late Medieval Latin, and is heavy with Italian vernacular. It probably comes from Northern Italy, possibly Milan, and dates to late 15th or early 16th century.

_Latin scrolls

Two Egyptian Hieroglyphs (H) scrolls:

H1—A papyrus scroll in Hieratic Egyptian, about 10 inches across, mounted on a wax board. It probably dates from the 19th Dynasty (about 1200 B.C.).

H2—A papyrus scroll in Hieratic Egyptian, about 10 inches across, tied with a faded red silk ribbon. It dates from the Tanite (21st) Dynasty (about 1000 B.C.).

_Egyptian Hieroglyph scrolls

Two Medieval French (F) scrolls:

F1—A brittle vellum scroll in Langues d’Oïl (Old French), about 10 inches across, untied, dating to the later 11th century.

F2—A fine parchment scroll in Middle French, about 15 inches across; illuminated, illustrated, and tied with a black silk ribbon laced with threads of silver. It dates to the mid 16th century, probably from the court of Francis I.

One Old English (E) scroll:

E1—A brittle vellum scroll, about nine inches across, tied with a strip of hide. An expert could date the scroll to around 1050 AD, making it a remarkable and rare find.

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Matthew Griswold’s notes from London

(Notes made by Matthew Griswold in London on the 30th January 1925:)

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