Chapel Hill, N.C.
3. November. 1927
darling, your Monday’s letter, brief but priceless,
reached me in the morning just as I was leaving New
was a delightful bon voyage.
My dear, you must not spoil this pampered thing with
your lavish and loving praise. To say I am to carry
loveliness to people, is sweet commendation, and exactly
what we would wish to do. I only hope some touch of
beauty reaches the audiences. I adore your fervor, your
sincerity, your wisdom. I like, yes I love, anything
as unmitigated in spirit as you are. Dull people are
such a trial, and I cannot
stand the tepid and half-hearted. Then in addition,
all this you is so palpably akin and one with my inmost
understanding, that no harm can come, it would seem.
I am sorry to be farther away instead of nearer. I would
so gladly have had our reunion sooner. But it could
not be. Also leaving New Canaan was an agony in itself.
It always is, except when we all go up to the mountains
for the summer. I abhore [sic] leave-takings, and separations.
Every parting is a lesser death.
say a good-by to a loved one, be it friend or lover,
is to suffer a partial dissolution of one’s being. I
nearly perish over it. Indeed nothing but these terrible
concessions we have to make to iron conditions and circumstances,
can justify separation between loving spirits. In very
truth, nothing justifies it, but only partly excuses
it. I wish we might never have to suffer it. But when
that consummation arrives, I will be in another sphere
that [sic] this, no doubt.
are most generous to me, Margaret darling, and I am
deeply grateful and happy in your abiding loving kindness
and transcendent friendship.
much love to you dear dear precious!
his reading tour. [back]