20 September 1922

6 Pond Street, Hampstead, London

I shall leave my rooms here just as they are. If Brett cares to let them furnished she may. I shall be only too pleased. But no harm will come to them. And in the spring when I am at Selsfield it will be nice to have them. (That's not sincere. Ugh! How I hate London and all its bricks! Perhaps I shan't then, though.) But there it is. It couldn't be helped. I suppose I was too quick. At any rate no harm has been done yet. I shall have to count on making money in Paris. I have over £80 in the bank. Money does not worry me. I'll go to the Victoria Palace for the first week or so and Ida has a famous list of hotels. She will find another and a better one I hope, then - somewhere more cosy. It's a little pity you can't take these rooms and let your flat. They are so fearfully nice & self-contained, with hot baths, attendance, food, telephone, and so on. Brett is a very good creature, too. This won't alter anything, will it? It only means that instead of being in London I shall be in Paris. [To J. M. Murry, 27 September 1922.]