Today, I decided to leave the quiet confinement of our lodgings here on Gay Street, despite Bath’s unbearable September heat. Suffering a slight disorder of the stomach- (caused by consuming a considerably sized Sally Lunn’s bun on Cassandra’s plate in addition to my own)- I resolved to walk to Charlscombe, intending to ease some considerable discomfort. To my small companion I remarked that, should we meet anyone intent on engaging us in polite conversation as to the current price of ham, I may accidentally spin the wheel of my sunshade and poke one of the party in the eye. Bidding our new acquaintances adieu, we might thus flee the ensuing scene of confusion and seek the fresher company and air of The Royal Crescent.