15 August

15 August 1920

2 Portland Villas, Hampstead - London

My dearest Violet,
Forgive my silence. I have been in bed ever since I last wrote to you and having an odious time. But today I am better and shall get up at the end of the week. Down in my writing room there is your last letter unanswered. I have kept thinking about it, thinking about you both, and seeing you out in this marvellous weather (at last). Is Sydney writing? I simply long to know. Hail! my Brother-artist! And Violet, let me clasp you warmly one little moment . . .
I shall not be able to leave London until I go away. That will be, I hope, the second week in September. May I know your plans? When do you return to London? I long to go, but I do want to [see] you both first. Lying here in my little top room at night I hear the trains go thrumming round the hollow world and the old longing comes back.
Oh what is the use of a letter. I cant write letters. Let us sit together in some corner of a warm quiet café, let us talk endlessly. I could talk about Tolstoy for hours. I burn to talk about Tolstoy. And then - and then - and then -
But - one thing. The story for the English Review - is it to be published? Today is my first day free from pain - and just to be washed up on the shore and allowed to think about this 'writing' is almost too much.
I will write when I am, as they say, more sensible. My love to you both
Katherine. [Letter to Violet Schiff in Collected Letters]