Her Majesty has lately taken an interest in the construction of the Hall of Measures. I confess I thought very little of it at first. The Presentation approaches, and she has never concealed her dislike of the rehearsals, particularly the processional walk, which she says becomes more absurd each time she is made to repeat it.

This morning she asked me who built the Hall. I told her I did not know. She asked, then, who had decided that the processional axis was to contain twenty-seven measures. I supposed the Office of Works would know and told her as much.

They did not. The Office of Works sent the inquiry to the Royal Survey, and the Survey, after some delay, referred us to the earliest plans preserved from the First Court. I spent the better part of the afternoon among them. There is no architect named; there is no master builder. More strangely, there appears to be no commission for the Hall at all.

I returned to Her Majesty before supper and told her what I had found. She listened without interrupting me. When I had finished, she remained very still for some time, looking toward the window. Then she asked, “Who decided there should be twenty-seven?” I reminded her that I did not know.

At this she looked at me rather strangely. “No,” she said. “You told me you don't know who built it.” I confess I did not understand what distinction she intended to make, and perhaps my expression betrayed this. She waited. Then, very carefully, as though I had answered some other question altogether, she said: “I asked who decided.”