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The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume I

Sunday — May 12, 1918 —

page 164
Sunday
May 12, 1918

To the Hon. Dorothy Brett

If you are passing through on your way to Scotland don't forget to let me know. I am not going to Looe until the end of this week….

Hurrah! it's begun to hail. Vive le joli Printemps! Murry is lying down upon the shell shaped 1840 sofa reading a book. He is wearing a mauve shirt and pinkish socks, and above his head on the black marble mantelpiece there is a bowl of dying lilacs.

I saw Virginia on Thursday. She was very nice. She's the only one of them I shall ever see, but she does take the writing business seriously and she is honest about it and thrilled by it. One can't ask more. My poor dear Prelude is still piping away in their little cage and not out yet. I read some pages of it and scarcely knew it again, it all seems so once upon a time. But I am having some notices printed and they say it will be ready by June. And won't the “Intellectuals” just hate it. They'll think it's a New Primer for Infant Readers. Let 'em.

Curse this letter writing. If only we were together. I've such a deal to say and this fool of a pen won't say it. Will it keep.

Each time I dip it into the honey pot a very exquisite little bee with a message under its wing flies out and off in the direction of Garsington. Don't frighten it away. It is a guaranteed non-stingless or anti-stinging bee.

Now God in His Infinite Wisdom hath made the sky blue again.

Oh dear, oh dear—people are vile but Life is thrilling—There is a man who plays the flute in this street on these faint evenings…. Well—Well—