The one in which you told me she was exploiting you, envious of your talent; oh, yes, and that about 'other men's sins.' You have got a conceit though, my boy! How I did laugh.

As a rule your letters are very tedious.

You write a horrible style.

I often don't read them at all, and I've one lying about to this day, unopened.

I'll send it to you to-morrow.