BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [25 APR. 1911]
BRACERS 17107. ALS. Morrell papers #42, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1^, 2
Tuesday evening

My Darling

I must send a line by this evening’s post, tho’ I am not sure whether it will reach you before you leave Studland. I did not go to the P.S.F. meeting — I had a great deal to do here, and felt it uncertain whether I might not meet Philip after all. Tomorrow morning I have to go to see a Dr. about a small affection of the skin inside my mouth, which my dentist tells me I ought to have cured. I don’t think it is of any importance. I shall use the occasion to have a look at a few Chelsea houses, in a preliminary way. I have to be back here for tea, as I have to preach Adult Suffrage to some John’s undergraduates. I find that it seems probable the Whiteheads are expecting me to go to Marlborough for the week-end. If so I shall have to go. I could not well get back to London in that case till 12.50, so it would be better to meet in London that day, and you come to Cambridge a later day. I can’t really make out what the Whiteheads want, but I suppose they will let me know some day. I have had two letters, both vague, and mildly contradictory.

I have got my rugs, and my mother’s picture. In a day or two I shall have my books, and then my rooms will be really in order. I have been visiting the sick — my neighbour Sedley Taylor, who is laid up with lumbago, and Verral, who seems very ill, and has been deserted by his wife and daughter temporarily. He is a wonderful man in the courage with which he endures constant pain and the creeping progress of his illness. For years he continued always to joke and talk just as if nothing was the matter. Now he is past that, and his wit has almost ceased. But he still works all day long. He reminds one of the “Grammarian’s Funeral”.a

Yes, I think Passion can last where the mind is really engaged. The love of the mind is permanent, and where that is strong there is nothing to hinder passion. It is the gradual succession of little jars due to great differences that make passion die. Otherwise, tho’ it may grow calmer, it will also grow deeper. What seems to me utterly amazing between you and me is the harmony of instincts and ways of feeling that makes permanence nearly certain.

I have been so full of business all day that I am affairé, which is tiresome. Dearest, if Friday is really possible for you, let me know how soon to come. I am free to be there any time after 10 a.m. Also whether I am to come to Bedford Square, or if not, where. I long to be with you again, Darling. Writing is a poor substitute — and the hours of the day are so short for writing all there is to say.

Now I really must stop, or I shall be late for the post.

Goodbye Darling. I cannot tell you how I love you — it grows with every day, whether I am with you or away from you. Nothing else in life seems of any importance. I know that in the long run work will seem important to me, but just now I only think of it as it may affect you — I could not permanently let my work go without great unhappiness, but at the moment it has no hold on me. I love you, my Darling, with all my strength.

Your
B.

• 1

  [document] Document 000042. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

• 2

  [envelope] A circled “42”.

Textual Notes

• a

  “Grammarian’s Funeral” G written over g, quotation marks added