X. Y. Z.
June the tenth.
Dear Mrs B: I shall certainly accept your invitation to dine this evening. Will you excuse my poor bridge?
Yours,
X.Y.Z.
June the twelfth.
Dear Mrs B: I have taken you at your word and have secured a couple of seats for that revue you wanted to see. You won"t break your promise about coming, will you? If you care about it, we might go on to supper somewhere afterwards and dance.
X.Y.Z.
June the fourteenth Dear A, Do you really mean I may call you A? And did you mean one or two other things you said last night? Whether you meant them or not, I want to thank you for a marvellous evening. I was so happy, I don"t believe I ever apologised for my atrocious dancing!
Thank you.
X.
June the seventeenth Dear A, Sorry! I know I behaved like a bear on the telephone, but I was so wretchedly disappointed that you could not manage to come out, after all. Will you ever forgive me? Of course I understand. May I come round some time tomorrow?
X.
June the nineteenth I"m glad you put me off that evening, because if you hadn"t rung me up to tell me so, and if I hadn"t been rude over the telephone, then I should never have come round to see you this afternoon.
Why were you so wonderful to me? Perhaps you were merely taking pity on a poor dull dog arrived from the ends of the earth! I don"t think ever in my life I have been able to talk to anyone as I have to you.
You made me feel as though things really are worth while; that there is more to look forward to in life than a dreary plantation surrounded by coolies. D"you know, I"ll make a confession to you. Out in China I used to go to Charlie"s place merely to look at the photograph of you that he had hanging over his desk.
In a way, I believe I idolised it; I could not believe that there really existed anyone so lovely. And then, when I came over here and knew I was going to meet you for the first time, I felt as nervous and shy as any schoolboy. I was so terrified that my photograph was going to be spoiled in some way.
When I saw you well, I could go on for pages and pages just describing how you looked and what I felt. But what"s the use? You would probably throw it unread into the wastepaper basket, and who would blame you! No; I shall do my best not to bore you in that way. You must be sick and tired of all the men who tell you you are beautiful. Can we be friends, though real friends?
X.
June the twenty-second My dear, I explained myself badly on the telephone this morning. I called round at once after you rang off, but your maid told me you had already gone out. So I am writing this note instead. You did not understand what I meant about this evening. It"s only that it"s so marvellous talking to you that I feel as though the hours were somehow wasted by going to a theatre!
Yes, I agree; I am idiotic and unreasonable.
Somehow, I had imagined us dining somewhere quietly in Soho and then perhaps going back to your house. But of course I will do anything you want.
Incidentally, I forgot to tell you that I am moving from this hotel. The service is bad and there seems to be no privacy. I"m thinking of taking a furnished apartment. But we will talk about that this evening. You aren"t angry with me, are you?
X.
June the twenty-third A,.
What am I to say? What can you think of me? I am so desperately ashamed of myself. No; there is no excuse, of course. I must have been mad . . . I never went back to the hotel after I left you. I"ve been walking about all night, miserable and out of my mind.
It is impossible for you to imagine my agony of reproach. I don"t know if for one moment you can understand what it means for someone who has spent three lonely, uncivilised years, living like a savage among other savages, to find himself all at once treated as a human being by a lovely and adorable woman like yourself. It proved too much for me too intoxicating.
Yes, I lost my head; I behaved as I should never dreamed it possible that I could behave. Can"t you see how difficult you made it for me? No; how should you? You were gentle; you were wonderful; you were you. I am to blame entirely. I will do any mortal thing if only you will try to forget what I said.
I swear to you solemnly by all I hold most dear that I will never make love to you again. Never . . . never . . . We will start once more at the beginning. My dear, I want to be your friend: somebody you feel you can trust; someone with whom you can relax, with whom you need make no effort.
Words . . . words . . . How can I explain? A, is there a chance of my being forgiven? A word from you will rouse me from my present depths of desolation. I shall be waiting all day, in case.
Forgive me.
X.
June the twenty-fifth When I heard your voice on the telephone, I trembled so that I could hardly answer! Absurd, isn"t it?
But none of that matters now. The only thing that matters is that you have forgiven me, and we are friends again. It is all right, isn"t it? We are friends, aren"t we? Yes: let"s drive into the country tomorrow to some little place miles from anywhere, and talk and talk. I have so much to tell you.
Bless you,
X.
June the twenty-seventh.
A, here are some flowers for you in memory of yesterday. I wonder if you have the remotest idea of what the day meant to me! You said you loved it too. Did you? I can"t forget that little inn by the side of the water, and how we sat there dreaming.
I"m so glad the country appeals to you as it does to me. You know, we think alike in most things. In some ways, my dear, your brain is most extraordinarily like that of a man. You see straight; you don"t muddle your ideas and you have such a sense of values. And then on the other hand, you are perhaps the most feminine person imaginable.
I have taken the apartment I told you about. The sitting room wants only one thing now your photograph. You promised me one days ago.
Yes, I"ll call for you this evening at ten, and we"ll go some place and dance. It will be perfect, of course. Wear your green dress, will you? I saw some beads exactly that colour. May I bring them for you?
X.
July the first.
A, darling, it"s no good, I couldn"t help myself. You looked so lovely. I"m not made of iron, but flesh and blood. What am I going to do about it?
I value your friendship more than anything in the world, but why aren"t you old and ugly? It would be so much easier for me.
You like me a little bit, don"t you? Or don"t you? I don"t know what I"m writing.
When am I going to see you? X July the fifth My darling, you made me so absurdly happy last night. I can"t believe they are true the things you said. You told me you liked orchids. Here are all the orchids I could find.
I"ll rob every hothouse in England if you want me to. I"ll do anything you want, give you anything you want if only you"ll let me see you every day.
I won"t ask for much in return just to be allowed to sit at your feet and worship. Nothing more than that.
You"re lovely, lovely, lovely. X July the seventh I can"t exist like this. I tell you it"s impossible. You"re driving me insane. You let me see you, and then you expect me to stand like a dummy without senses.
I"ve been at the telephone all day and have had no answer from you. Where were you and whom were you with?
Oh! Yes, laugh at me, I don"t care. Of course, I agree I have no right to ask you questions. You are perfectly free. When you laugh like that I want to strangle you and then I want to love you.
I must see you.
X.
July the eighth.
3 A.M.
Beloved, It"s absurd to write to you, isn"t it, after this evening? The room is full of you still. I can"t think of anything else. I know now that I have been waiting all my life for this. Sleep well. G.o.d bless you. Take care of yourself.
Do you love me?
X.
July the ninth.
Sweet, Of course it"s all right. Expecting you this afternoon between five and six.
X.
July the tenth.
My darling, No: come tomorrow. You must, you must! I can"t wait for you until Sat.u.r.day, not after yesterday.
Couldn"t we possibly lunch somewhere first, and then come back here afterwards?
Please! I love you so much.
X.
July the fifteenth Beloved, Your maid answered the telephone this morning when you were out, so I disguised my voice and gave another name.
Couldn"t we go out into the country? You remember that little place we went to in June, by the water? Then after luncheon we could stroll in those woods . . . They look very lonely and deserted.
Say yes, will you? Telephone me and we"ll arrange to meet somewhere. I had better not pick you up.
Your
X.
July the nineteenth What about four o"clock?
X.
July the twentieth My dearest, I think we had better go to the other place, it"s quieter. Besides, there are two entrances. What bad luck, your knowing the fellow who lives here in the same block! We"ll have to be careful.
X.
July the twenty-first Angel, Very well; I"ll pick you up tomorrow outside your club. Leave the car parked outside with the hood up, and I"ll sit inside and wait for you. I suggest we go to the country again. There"s less chance of running across anyone.
By the way, I"ve found out that the fellow you know is out all day, doesn"t get back until the evening, so we needn"t worry about him when we"re at the apartment.
I don"t know how to wait until tomorrow.
You know that question you asked me? The answer is Yes a thousand times! You are adorable!
X.
July the twenty-fifth Yes, I know I was nervy and irritable today. You must forgive me. But seeing you as I do, at odd hours, makes me dissatisfied. I don"t know. It"s as though I wanted to be with you all the time. Couldn"t we go away somewhere, for the weekend? Some place where we could be by ourselves.
We would be very careful; no one need ever find out. What do you think, my sweet?
Your
X.