BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [8 MAY 1911]
BRACERS 17127. ALS. Morrell papers #58, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1^, 2
Monday afternoon.

My Beloved Ottoline

Your most delightful letter fills me with joy. I am most thankful for all you tell me about Philip. It is a great relief to think that he takes it as he does. The whole situation is so unusual that it is difficult to throw off convention, in one’s thoughts, as much as one really ought in order to understand it. But the truth is that what he wants of you is less incompatible with much of what I want than one would naturally suppose. Perhaps in time we may be able to meet — at present, even if he were willing, I should shrink from it, but I dare say we shall both get over that in time. My feelings in what concerns him are as yet dim and uncertain, and I don’t know which way they will develop, but I think they will develop in ways that will make things easier. I see that he is behaving with great generosity. — Yes, it was nice of Roger to say such nice things about me, and I can well believe how you loved hearing them. My gentleness to him was partly caused by what you told me on the bench in Richmond Park.

I felt I ought to have gone earlier yesterday to relieve you of your nervousness, only I couldn’t bear to leave you sooner than was necessary. But another time we had better not let the time come so near.

I am very thankful to have you “swear” not to wrong again. There does really seem to be no need. But it will be much easier for you if we don’t meet in Bedford Square. I wish quite enormously that Roger would ask us to Guildford together. I don’t see why it should be difficult. I will not propose myself to him quite yet, on the chance.

I am sitting out in the Fellows’ Garden again — it is quite too lovely, and I long to have you with me. I find myself saying our words of love at all moments, as soon as my thoughts escape from whatever I am doing. I can hear you saying over “Come unto these yellow sands” and getting the intoxication of pure loveliness. I hear people’s voices in imagination much more easily than I see their faces, and so when I am away from you your voice is more important to me than your face. — This day is so lovely it makes me almost wild with the joy of existence. I shall never keep you shut up indoors all day Wednesday if it is like this. Yes, Darling, I long to take you more and more and more into myself, and have you take me. I feel our whole lives will be hardly long enough for all the depth of union we shall come to. At first I was troubled by things I had done amiss in former days — now I am not — I feel you would so well understand them — I have always been led into them in the first instance by kindness and sympathy, and you would not judge them hardly. Dearest, I am so filled with joy I want to sing and proclaim it everywhere and praise the beauty of the world. It is hard to contain so much joy. — Now I must post this, or you won’t get it tonight. Goodbye my Life, I am with you every moment.

Your
B.

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