22 February 1922

Victoria Palace Hotel, Paris

D.I.
   Please do not on any account send me any more clothes by letter post. Another notification has come this morning for a second parcel & it means all the trouble of going off to the bureau again. But apart from that I never imagined you would send me anything by letter post. It is far and away too expensive, in fact its a most shocking waste of money. I thought you intended to send whatever you did send by parcel post. Now I understand at last why you were asked 15 francs . . .
             Yours
                  K.M.  [To Ida Baker, 21 February 1922.]

We have settled down, shaken into this life as if we had been here for months. That is one blessed thing about work. It prepares a place for one everywhere. And though it would be awful to live in a hotel indefinitely, while we are waiting for the ‘arrival', so zu sagen, its not too bad. I feel exactly as though I were going to have an infant in May. Everything dates from then. I am sure if the Faithful One were here she would begin making little caps. But she is not here, and the horrid fact is one is thankful. Of course I do, I must, feel undyingly grateful but oh the joy it is not to be watched! Men, in my experience, however much they may care for you, they do not watch you, they don't want to share your very shell in the way a woman does. One can issue forth and retire at will. But there is something about the persistent devotion of women (I expect its very noble) which is stifling! Or am I wrong.
   John tells me there is a chance - just a chance - that we may meet in the summer in Bavaria. Elizabeth, it would be happiness! Warmth, flowers, long evenings, the smell of grass, the shadow of leaves on a table and funny things that make one laugh happening. Will it come true.
   No, please let all the pride be mine that you are my cousin. If you knew how I feel it. I should like to write one story really good enough to offer you one day. Which reminds me that my unfortunate book is due to come on Thursday. When you open the parcel there will sound a squeak of terror! l
I hope it is fine; I hope you are warm and that your work is going quickly.
John is immersed in Plutarch's Lives.
   Accept my love
              Katherine. [To Eliabeth, Countess Russell, 21 February 1922.]