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How good you were to write to me! I am almost ashamed to address you after having fled out of town3 so abruptly the first week in April, without going to see you and Mrs. Boas4 for a word of good-bye. I have been staying with old friends5 here2, and working busily.
When I first arrived in Toronto, Sinclair
lectured7 here and said so many
extravagantly appreciative things about my books that three reporters were
at the door before breakfast the next morning, and
NORTH 6127 38 SAINT VINCENT STREET
TORONTO for the first two weeks it looked as if my life would be quite wrecked by dinner parties and teas and luncheons. It is sometimes hard to be firm in such matters, but firm I was: and finally convinced the kind people that they could best show their interest in me by letting me alone. My hostess supported me in this rather ungracious but necessary attitude.
As a result of a quiet life and hard work—broken by an occasional evening with congenial people, and Saturday afternoons at home—I am much better in health than I was when I left New York, and have got over some of the most difficult chapters of my novel8.
Dear Mrs. Stanfield, I am sending you a photograph9 taken at my tent on the Mediterranean10, near Heryres11, when I worked for six weeks last summer. It is only a snap-shot, but I have no other photographs with me, and this one is a reminder of pleasant days in a pleasant land. I send it to you with a great deal of love.
I was so glad to have the newspaper cuttings you sent me, as I see only the N. Y. Times12 here, and my publisher13 is now in Europe14 and does not send me any press notices.With loving greetings, your Willa Cather Mrs. A. Stanfield1 The Wyoming 55th St + Seventh Ave. New York City3 U. S. A. TORONTO, ONTARIO2 JUN 11 1921 630 PM June 26