Everything is provisional to Mrs. Van Swinderen's agreement; and I am to lunch there on Friday and hear more. . . .
When Couperus returned to Holland, my
correspondence with Teixeira was suspended.
We were meeting or communicating by telephone
almost daily; and it was only when we
left London to stay with friends that the
letters were resumed.
Weather hot and stuffy, he writes, 1. 8. 21, from Sutton Courtney. Lawns running down to a perfectly full river and absolutely dry: and I with not much to tell you. . . . I am sleeping beautifully and eating lightly; and I feel too indolent for words. Good-bye and bless you! My wife, he writes, 5. 8. 21, pictures me surrounded by people who, if she broke my heart by dying, would thrust women of forty on me, "dear, dearest Mr. Tex," to look after me. Is it not a beautifully witty tag to a letter? I think so. . . .
To my reproach that he had left London
without saying good-bye to me, he replies,
16. 8. 21 with complete justification:
