Lawrence of Arabia, Zionism and Palestine - The World War I ...

16 LAWRENCE OF ARABIA
In those days and (owing to the withering hand of
Monsieur Mavromatis' Ottoman concession) for years
after, there was no electric light in Jerusalem, and in
my bachelor household the hands of the Arab servants
fell heavy upon the incandescent mantles of our paraffin
lamps, from which a generous volcano of filthy smuts
would nightly stream over the books, the carpets and
everything in the room. Lawrence took the lamp
situation daily in hand, and so long as he was there
all was bright on the Aladdin front. He said he liked
the house because it contained the necessities and not
the tiresomenesses of life; that is to say there were a
few Greek marbles, a good piano and a great many
books though (I fear) not enough towel-horses, no
huckabacks, and a very irregular supply of cruets and
dinner-napkins. Not all my guests agreed with
Lawrence's theory; but the Egyptian cook did, for
my servant Said once observed: "When your Excellency
has none other than Urenz in the house, Abd al-Wahhâb
prepares a/a kaifu—without bothering himself."
He was not (any more than Kitchener) a misogynist,
though he would have retained his composure if he
had been suddenly informed that he would never see a
woman again. He could be charming to people like
my wife and sister, whom he considered to be "doing"
something, but he regarded (and sometimes treated)
with embarrassing horror those who "dressed, and
knew people". When at a dinner-party a lady illustrated
her anecdotes with the Christian names, nick-names
and pet-names of famous (and always titled) personages,
Lawrence's dejection became so obvious that the lady,
from time to time. I can't get any replies out of T. E. He sent
me some weeks ago eight chapters of his book in paged proof
and I returned them with comments, but I have heard no more.
Two people, Sir Geoffrey Salmond and Sir M. de Bunsen, who
had been in his neighbourhood of late, reported well of T. E.
to me. Alan Dawnay tells me T. E. is coming here one day in his
normal fashion—without notice and refusing to be put up—but
days pass and no news of him so—voilà ! "