BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, 27 SEPT. 1911
BRACERS 17268. ALS. Morrell papers #196A, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

Wed. afternoon. 27 Sp. 1911.1 ^, 2

My Dearest Dearest

I was well rewarded for not staying the night at Lockeridge by finding two letters from you when I got back and getting another by the 1st post this morning. They are all very dear letters. Yes letters are an inexpressible comfort — my whole day centres round your letters. I love every word, whether you are grave or gay, wise or what you call “idiotic”. — No, I am not afraid of self-indulgence over hair-wash and sponges. With work, it is not the least that I am afraid of hurting you because I know I shouldn’t. It is that the world of my technical work is a difficult world, very remote, and very exacting — when I get into it, it does something of what you say worry does to you, it tightens up my love inside, and seems to lock it up. The sheer effort leaves hardly room for any feeling except fatigue, likea the last few miles of an all-day walk. However, that is the chief thing I live for, and you need have no fear that I shall neglect it. I have always worked quite as hard as was desirable for the work. One needs intermissions to keep freshness and originality. I do indeed feel your spirit urging me on. I know you wouldn’t stand it if I neglected my job. It is subjectively that it is difficult to come out of the world of love into the world of reasoning and distinctions and abstractions. But really, apart from your feeling about my work, you help me in many ways. For one thing, I no longer have the restlessness which for years past has made me almost incapable of serious reading. This winter I mean to read a number of dull German books which I ought to have read long ago, and generally to grow learned again. 10 years ago I was learned, but during the writing of our big book it was difficult to read much, especially in my restless mood. Now I ought to spend at least a year reading before doing any more serious writing.

What a stupid fool your manager is and what an odious creature. I don’t quite understand why being in love with the proprietor’sb daughter should make him so. I suppose she has the sense to scorn him in spite of all the fascinations of his moustache-cage.

I am glad Prisons works with you in practice. That is a real test. I have still not received the typed stuff — I think they must have lost my address.

Darling, your 2nd little letter of Sunday was a great joy to me. Thank you for it. Yes, everything draws us nearer, and everything always will, because the bond is strongest in what is deepest in us both.

I am most thankful your heart is stronger. I can well believe it will do you good to come back in the spring. It will be a mercy if it makes you really stronger. I am sorry you have so much rain — our weather is perfect. Last night, after a delicious ride, I got home at 11.40, found Miss Lindsay had assumed I was not coming back, and had gone to bed and locked the door. However, after some knocking I elicited a sleepy response from somewhere upstairs, and after an interval for her toilette she let me in. I was famished, and ate quantities of stewed fruit and bread while I was reading your letters. This morning I had proofs — they have passed p. 500 of Vol. II — and the Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale, which comes every two months. Friday I sleep in London, at the Ivanhoe Hotel in your neighbourhood, because my Uncle Rollo will be there and I shall be staying with him. Sat. morning to Cambridge. Oct. 5th and 6th to Carlyle Square — please address Post Office Chelsea. I posted a letter to you late last night at Reading, addressed to Prag, but I am doubtful of its reaching you. I enclose the letter I wrote Thursday night3 before hearing of Mother Julian’s death. But it is more combative than it should be. Please pardon it. — Goodbye my Darling. Your letters are such a joy. I love you. I love you. All my heart is with you.

Yr.
B.

Notes

• 1

  [document] Document 000196A. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

• 2

  [envelope] ??.

• 3

  letter I wrote Thursday night The letter of 21 September 1911 (BRACERS 17268).

Textual Notes

• a

  like after deleted last

• b

  proprietor’s replaced manager’s