should like to see, for, thanks to you, I have learnt how beautiful the
world is. But the wisest course for me is to give myself up to my chosen
destiny. I shut the door of my "White Villa"--and there my story ends.

Your
ELSIE LINDTNER.

Reading through my letter, it seems to me cold and dry. But it is harder
to write such a letter to a dear friend than to a stranger.




LANDED ON MY ISLAND.
CREPT INTO MY LAIR.

The first day is over. Heaven help me through those to come! Everything
here disgusts me, from the smell of the new woodwork and the half-dried
wallpapers to the pattering of the rain over my head.

What an idiotic notion of mine to have a glass roof to my bedroom! I
feel as though I were living under an umbrella through which the water
might come dripping at any moment. During the night this will probably
happen. The panes of glass, unless they are very closely joined
together, will let the water through, and I shall awake in a pool of
water.

Awake, indeed! If only I ever get to sleep! My head aches and burns from
sheer fatigue, but I have not even thought of getting into bed yet.