22 September

22 September 1920

Travelling to Menton, France

Re book box. I burn for it. No, there's nothing more to come, love, in it. What I miss here terribly is odd things, ornaments, scraps of stuff for little tablecloths, all nice things for the table, but especially little personal ‘bits'. But those you can't provide. WHEN we live here we'll have them.
I must get up. Marie has gone to market. She bought a superb carpet sweeper yesterday acting on my orders. It cost 50 francs (£1!).
The invisible worm has got into my Founting Pen - alas!
Yours truly & faithfully
Wig.
I'm DEAD OFF Schiffs. Had a card from them which for some reason finished them. This I tell you in case they invite you there. Don't bother to go if you don't care to. They wrote me a kind of rhapsody on Eliot - idiocy. I've had enough. Finito. Now Id run 10 miles to escape them!![Letter to J. M. Murry in Collected Letters, 21 September 1920]

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Very many thanks for your card. I will write as soon as I can. All goes well, but I am tired after that journey. I can't lift a pen for the moment.
But I can let it go about T.S.E. For my money is on JMM as THE English Critic. I agree, he makes mistakes sometimes; he's rash, he's not steady yet, he leaps before he looks. But there is a sign - a something in what he writes which the opaque frigidity of Eliot never has. Thats my opinion. Hurra for JMM.
Murry with all thy faults I love thee still. And I mean as a critic please. Hes the man of the future, Im sure. He risks himself. T.S.E. never.
My love to you both
K. [Letter to Sydney Schiff in Collected Letters, 21 September 1920]