caused by a message you wrote on a piece of paper for me to see. I feel
C2 21



that if I kept it secret it might grow in my mmd (as g^3«°^°V;!, *^^f J'^!^
in the dark) and take its place with other terrible things that gnaw me-
Thought to those that sit alone and silent and in bonds, being no wmged
living thing ', as Plato feigned it, but a thing dead, breeding what is horrible
like I shmf that shows monsters to the moon." [Then follows the ground
of complaint] : " and I believe that my letter was lent and shown to others
with the part ... cut out by a pair of scissors. Now I do not like my
letters shown about as curiosities : it is most distasteful to me : i write to
you freely as one of the dearest friends I have or have ever had : and with
a few exceptions the sympathy of others touches me, as far as its loss goes
very little. No man of my position can fall into the mire of hie without
getting a great deal of pity from his inferiors : and I know that when
plays last too long spectators tire. My tragedy has lasted far too long : its
climax is over ; its end is mean ; and I am quite conscious of the fact that
when the end does come I shall return an unwelcome visitant to a world
that does not want me ... as one whose face is grey with long iniprison-
ment and crooked with pain. Horrible as are the dead when they rise
from their tombs, the living who come out from tombs are more horrible
still." Following this are long and bitter passages apropos the way m
which Ross has offended him. After reciting at some length in a strain
of bitter invective, he goes on : " And so now I have in my letter plucked
the thorn out. That Httle scrawled line of yours rankled terribly. I now
think merely of your getting quite well again and writing at last the wonder-
ful story of the little restaurant with the strange dish of meat served to
the select chents. . . . The gilded Sphinx is, I suppose, wonderful as ever.
