I hope you are not waiting for me to-day—for I am unable to come to London. My rheumatism still makes walking an impossibility—and I suffer very much. However I am in hopes it will leave me suddenly and then I shall come. We are going to shut up this house and live in London until the Summer. Jack has seen some rooms (rather, they were my idea) in Fitzroy Street and as soon as I am able to move I am going to see them. So we shall be in London quite soon and more or less permanently. This cottage is too cold and too depressing.

When we are settled in London we must have some good times together. Make up a little basket of dreams—will you—and I will, too, and we shall be ready, then. I feel about 800, Koteliansky, for I can hardly walk at all—nor turn in my bed without crying out against my bones.