19 March 1922

Victoria Palace Hotel, Paris

My little Golden Bee,
   Ill simply indulge myself and write to you before answering all these letters. My bed is a battlefield of letters and press cuttings. I cant move a toe without a rustle of dead leaves. Oh, what a joy it will be to get to some remote place again where posts come only once a day! But - put all that away. It is all away. Let me think about April & Easter, and your letter, dearest. Ill answer the questions first. About coming here. This hotel is a bit expensive I imagine for Arthur and its not Gertler's kind. Its very big, families come. The cheapest room is 13 francs and you are obliged to take some of your meals here - lunch 9 francs, dinner 10. It wouldn't weigh on me at all to know you were all here. But I don't think either A. or G. Would care for it. And there is this to think of I cant see anyone before midi. I have to stay in bed until then and rest i.e. not talk much. Murry wont see anyone before midi. Wild horses wont drag him from his table before then. [...]
   Oh I am so longing to get over this last crisis and begin to climb the hill so that by the time you come I shall not be such a Job-in-the-ashes. Manoukhin says in eight days now the worst will be over. Its such a queer feeling. One burns with heat in one's hands & feet and bones, then suddenly you are racked with neuritis, but such neuritis that you cant lift your arm. Then ones head begins to pound. It's the moment when if I were a proper martyr I should begin to have that awful smile that martyrs in the flames put on when they begin to sizzle! But no matter - it will pass. . .  [To Dorothy Brett, 19 March 1922.]