24 September
24 September
24 September 1920
Travelling to Menton, France
I am ‘getting on' darling - theres no doubt about that - but its a stiff climb pour le moment.
My own Bogey
A clap of Thunder and the long arm of Jove thrust through the shutters with your precious telegram upon a silver fork of lightning. That is what happened last night. You are too thoughtful; it bouleverses me. There the matter ends I hope about F. Ill keep the letters till you come at Xmas. Your card with the cutting re tuberculosis came today. What a splendid letter it was - ‘advanced stage' & now ‘splendid health' - what that means to read!
I want very much to know about your dinner with Kay.' My theory is drink. Did I tell you I had another letter from Beatrice H? A hateful sniggering letter - a hiccup of thing. People are rather dreadful, Boge. Bogey, love, Wingley is on my heart awfully. I keep seeing him & remembering how he sat - a teapot cat - so serene in my room & how he touched my hand at meals with his gentil paw. You must love him ten¬derly - as you alone know how & whisper him our secrets. No one else understands him. He's very like us, really. Im writing my reviews today. It has been raining - torrents of warm heavy rain & now it is marvel¬lously fine & warm again & one can hear the buds uncurling. WHEN you come - I am making preparations even now - not to hurry my dearest dear but -
Your own
Tig [Letter to J. M. Murry in Collected Letters]