No! I envy your
superb balance and your imperturbable joy in life.
I am out of sorts to-day. We have dined out twice running, and you know
I cannot endure too much light and racket.
We shall meet no more, you and I. How strange it will seem. We had so
much in common besides our portly dressmaker and our masseuse with her
shiny, greasy hands! Well, anyhow, let us be thankful to the masseuse
for our slender hips.
I shall miss you. Wherever you were, the atmosphere was cordial. Even on
the summit of the Blocksberg, the chillest, barest spot on earth, you
would impart some warmth.
Lillie Rothe, dear cousin, do not have a fit on reading my news:
_Richard and I are going to be divorced_.
Or rather, we _are_ divorced.
Thanks to the kindly intervention of the Minister of Justice, the affair
was managed quickly and without fuss, as you see. After twenty-two years
of married life, almost as exemplary as your own, we are going our
separate ways.
You are crying, Lillie, because you are such a kind, heaven-sent,
tender-hearted creature.
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