31 Dec 1921

31 December 1921

Chalet des Sapins, Montana-sur-Sierre, Switzerland

   Jones is waiting for this letter. I want it to catch the post. I have only begun to say what I want to say. About Paris. I cannot go just at present. Im still in bed & likely to remain there for a time. Congestion is a slow affair, especially at this height. The doctor, like all doctors, is a complete fool. I shall try & put off Paris until May. To meet there in May & to stay there (J. & I will be there four months) would be nothing short of wonderful. I hardly dare think of it. Now I know Manoukhine is there I can bear to wait. I think I shall try. Hotels & journeys are a dread prospect in any weather - in this, even more.
  Forgive this haste and inadequacy. Read much more in my letter than is there, dear Sydney. With my warm love to you both
                   Katherine. [To Sydney Schiff, 31 December 1921.]

  My cat has just leapt on to my bed and begun to clean his face and his two little chimneys. Its a queer thing. He started life in a humble way like One greater than he - he was born in a stable and was just an ordinary little black & white kitten. But since he came here he has turned into a real Persian with an enormous ruff and feathers on his legs. I suppose it is the cold. The Swiss of course, dont keep cats. They are frightened a cat might eat the old cabbage stalk they are saving up for the baby to cut its teeth on. They are a thrifty race.
  By the way I suppose you do not know the address of a first chop dentist in Paris? I have to go to Paris very soon and while I am there I want to put my head into the jaws of a really good painless modern man. Is there such an one? If you could send me a card with his name and address I would be awfully grateful. Are you wondering why I ask you? I have a feeling you know all these things . . . I am going as soon as my feet are on the earth again, for my teeth are falling like autumn leaves. They have very large wooden buns here for tea with nails in them and powdered glass on expres pour les anglais. I defy anyone to grind them to powder without an ‘accident'.
  A Happy New Year to you l you do know how I ‘appreciated' your letter? Thanks again dear Drey.
  With love from
                 K.M.  [To Raymond Drey, 27 December 1921.]