1699: TO VANESSA BELL
52 Tavistock Square, W.C.1

Wednesday [29 December 1926]

Dearest,

I found your letter last night. We fled from Zennor a day early, you'll be glad to hear, unable to stand 
the perishing cold and Wills slang (Ka was far better than Will) any longer. They did their best, poor people, 
but the coal gave out, and we all had colds, and Ka had a headache, and endless neighbours called and there 
was Mervyn Arnold F. staying there, and in short as I say we came home. Nevertheless, Cornwall has redeemed 
itself for beauty: I motored from end to end; and was overcome, not so much by the moors, though they had 
fires burning in the cold dawn, but by the valleys. I saw a clergyman called Walke, and a picture of Rogers. Mrs 
Leake and Colonel Hurst were both worth many journeys to see —But the cold! the cold!

I dont think I can face Julian's ridicule. I am sure it is scurrilous and in the worst of taste. Never mind. 
I'll cook a goose for his gander, tell him. The bother is I'm now in a hideous rush putting the last touches to my 
novel—what about the cover?—and have lost so much time—it was impossible to hold a pen at Zennor—also 
the intellects froze—(Leonard says Will is a hypocrite, and we saw all his pictures—vague skimmings of cloud 
and mountain incredibly tortured and meagre) What I mean is; I dont think I can spend a night out again; but will 
come over, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday. Shall you be there? We come down on Tuesday. As the train left, 
Ka hurtled back, put her head in and said "Tell Nessa I'm really very fond of her". So there. It is one of the most 
melancholy households you can imagine. It is founded upon pretending they enjoy, what they dont: upon slang, 
and heartiness, and art, and humanity. Ka is to some extent genuine; Will hollow. At least so I think. I've been 
asked to go to America by a paper. I seriously think of doing it.

Please give Julian a hint that I'm very dangerous when roused: also, I should like to see him.

Yr B