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The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume I

Summer 1913

Summer 1913

Thank you for the money: I'm going to start again keeping a strict account of every penny I spend and then page 4 we can see where the screw is loose or the shoe pinches—or whatever it is.

Last night as I got into bed the bed refused to have me and down I flew with my feet up in the air. I was terrified but I couldn't help laughing—and once started I kept on. It seemed no end of a joke to be all alone in what R. C. would call the “profound stillness of the June night” and to be served that age-old trick!

“Mrs. Walter” is here to-day and we're having clean pinnies from head to foot. Such relief that I've written my reviews again and started my Epilogue. I went in to see Baby G. this morning. He was sucking. Such a pretty sight as a rule. But Mrs. G.'s sharp wan face above him somehow filled me with horror.

Things have straightened out in my mind and I'm rather ashamed that I told you—what I did yesterday. It sings in my ears rather like the wail of the little girl left behind on the fence—more anger than anything else.

[Note added by J. Middleton Murry:]

In November 1913, we went to live in Paris, in a flat at 31 rue de Tournon, not 32, as printed by mistake in the Journal.