It has got so late owing to Max’s latest book, Petticoat Government; I will send it to you within the next few days. It includes the story “From a Sewing School,” of which I knew only the beginning, and which, regardless of time and lack of sleep, I have just read right through to the end.
Dearest, how is it that I have been without news of you for so long? If you knew how I squeezed everything I wished out of that word “affectionate” in your telegram, though it was only a conventional word! Could something I said in my last letter have offended you? I can hardly believe it, for even if it is silly and seemingly affected to talk in general terms about things of the distant past, surely we know each other well enough for you to realize that when this formless material has been shaped into regular narrative, not a word of it could offend you.
But could your trip have turned out badly? Not so much as a postcard have I received; and yet you have surely written to those at home, to whom you returned on Friday and who cannot possibly have worried about you as much as I did.
No further reproaches, my Felice, but never be angry with me; there may be cause for it, but it is never intended. You wouldn’t believe the kind of person I could become if you wanted it. If only the hand by which I feel spiritually guided were held firmly in mine!
Franz
May I send my regards to your mother, and your brother and sisters? Tell your mother: The trip had both meaning and purpose, but lacked the man to accomplish either.
You must have had my express letter?
[In the lower left margin] The “announced Fräulein B.” is wonderful; do send me things from your office occasionally.