I'm longing to see your ‘Wilde-Harris.’ I am sure O. W. was negligible but he is an astonishing figure. His letters, his mockeries and thefts—he's a Judas who betrays himself.

… Which is the more tragic figure—the master without a disciple or one disciple without a master? … That's by the way. Can I have the Times Lit. Sup.? I freeze, I burn for the printed word.

Saturday. I sent my review last night. I do hope it arrives in time. Dearest, I'm better. Temperature normal—pain gone—up and lying in the salon. I am eating again too and now really will mend. But I have never been so thin—not even in Paris. I simply melted like a candle with that fever. I rock when I stand. But Hurrah! it's over.