
I was so sorry you did not find your high plane of work fruitful: but the hights are often most barren. The air is good in the haze: all the company select, if not numerous.
And now you are ill! May the gods hold you [illegible] and bring you
safe and solid back to
the lone big land of Columbus.
I am today sending back proof sheets of my new book "To the Czar." I hope to tear his bowels out. Damn him!!
With love to you and yours. Joaquin