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Waldbröl—Friday

That was the letter I expected—and I hated it. Never mind. I suppose I deserve it all. I shall register it up, the number of times I leave you in the lurch: that is a historical phrase also. This is the first time. “Rats” is a bit hard, as a collective name for all your men—and you’re the ship. Poor H ... , poor devil! Vous le croquez bien entre les dents. I don’t wonder E ... hates your letters—they would drive any man on earth mad. I have not the faintest intention of dying: I hope you haven’t any longer. I am not a tyrant. If I am, you will always have your own way. So my domain of tyranny isn’t wide.—I am trying to think of some other mildly sarcastic things to say. Oh—the voice of Hannah, my dear, is the voice of a woman who laughs at her newly married husband when he’s a bit tipsy and a big fool. You fling H ... in my teeth. I shall say Hannah is getting fonder and fonder of me. She gives me the best in the house. So there!

I think I’ve exhausted my shell and shrapnel. You are getting better, thank the Lord. I am better quite. We have both, I think, marvellous recuperative powers.

You really seriously and honestly think I could come to Munich next Saturday, and stay two months, till August? You think we could manage it all right, as far as the business side goes? I begin to feel like rising once more on the wing. Ich komm—je viens—I come—advenio.

We are going to be married, respectable people, later on. If you were my property, I should have to look after you, which God forbid.

I like the way you stick to your guns. It’s rather splendid. We won’t fight, because you’d win, from sheer lack of sense of danger.

I think you’re rather horrid to H.... You make him more babified—baby-fied. Or shall you leave him more manly?

You make me think of Maupassant’s story. An Italian workman, a young man, was crossing in the train to France, and had no money, and had eaten nothing for a long time. There came a woman with breasts full of milk—she was going into France as a wet nurse. Her breasts full of milk hurt her—the young man was in a bad way with hunger. They relieved each other and went their several ways. Only where is H ... to get his next feed?—Am I horrid?

Write to me quick from Munich, and I will tell them here. I can return here in August.

Be well, and happy, I charge you (tyranny)

D. H. Lawrence