Oh, dear friend—I am so very angry—I see strange fiery flashes before my drowned eyes— I dare not write more. I cannot be sure that any further communication of yours will reach me—intact—or at all— Your Poem is lost. And shall I give up—so? I who have fought for my Autonomy against Family and Society? No, I will not. In the known risk of appearing—Inconsequential, Tergiversatory, infirm of purpose and feminine—I ask you—is it possible for you to walk in Richmond Park—when shall I say—you will be occupied—any day the next three days at about eleven in the morning.
