before my own, before my ignominious face, excluded by a most excellent critic from the category pretty, and felt as though I would hide it for ever in stacks of mending, in tubs of soup, in everything domestic and drudging and appropriate. But some of the words you rained down on me on Tuesday night between all those kisses came throbbing through my head, throbbing with great throbs through my whole body--Roger, did I hear wrong, or were they not 'Lovely--lovely--lovely'? And always kisses between, and always again that 'Lovely--lovely--lovely'? Where am I getting to? Perhaps I had better stop.
Jena, Nov. 12th.
Dearest of Living Creatures, the joy your dear, dear letters gave me! You should have seen me seize the postman. His very fingers seemed rosy-tipped as he gave me the precious things. Two of them--two love-letters all at once. I could hardly bear to open them, and put an end to the wonderful moment. The first one, from Frankfurt, was so sweet--oh, so unutterab