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The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume I

Monday — November 3, 1919

Monday
November 3, 1919

No letter came to-day, but the paper did. We had the devil of a great storm last night, lasting for hours—thunder, lightning, rain, and I had appalling nightmares. I think it must be the noise of the sea which makes me dream so: it excites one's nerves at night. One longs for it to ‘lie down’ … old age, I expect. After the thunder the day is very lovely, cool, but so definite and on a big scale. I began to write an article for the paper yesterday called “Eternity”; I hope it will be finished to-day. If you don't care for it, please just keep it: it will go in some book some time or other. It's so nice to walk in this little garden. After yesterday I went up and down, up and down, thinking out things. It was then I hit on the subject for the article.

I've been out of doors all day, still am, in fact,—under a sunshade on the verandy. I feel quite all right, not a suspicion of anything is wrong with me, but I'm Flat. It's the albatross round my neck….

However, let us put a penny in the box, let us have a tune. Let us nod and grin while the others get up and do our dancing for us, as we sit over here in the corner, waiting, waiting—for the bead curtains to jingle, to be pushed aside, for La Santé to come laughing, laughing in, running over to our corner, putting her arms round our page 274 neck and saying, “My friend, my darling friend.” The garçon hovers by, biting his nails and shooting me a glance or two. I've read all the illustrated papers—all the comics. Suddenly he swoops forward and piles two chairs on the table next to mine. Good Heavens! it's really closing time! Why doesn't she come? Why doesn't she! …

I don't know why I am writing this. Please forgive it. And forgive me for not being gay. Forgive me for that. Don't worry about me. I'll get out of this. See in your mind's eye Wig under an umbrella much too large, thinking it's still raining, and open the window and tell her how silly she looks and how that policeman with his scythe is laughing at her.