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I meant to write you a non business letter at once after I sent the other4, but I've been overwhelmed by things.
No, I am not cross with you! I never have been. It would take a good deal to make me that. You simply let your natural kindness blind your judgment this time. The play you sent me is a stupid piece of work. If you aren't coming soon, I'll try to write you why I think so. This fellow5 never had the faintest idea of what Mrs. Forrester6 was like. Her lines are as common as mud—except when he quotes.
But I certainly don't hold his dumbness
against against you! That would be
Forgive this hurried scrawl, my dear. Alfred Knopf7 is sailing in a few days, suddenly, and a lot of business matters have come up to be arranged before he goes. The Christmas rush is on, and all the demands that one's family makes at this season. So forgive me if my letter sounded curt. I never feel annoyed with you. You have always been one of my real comforts, and one of the few people, of the very few people whom I trust. Wish me a happy Christmas in bed, and I'll come up smiling!Yours W. Mrs. Hugo Rumbold1 Green Fountain Brigden Road Pasadena3 California NEW YORK N.Y. GRAND CENTRAL ANNEX2 DEC 20 1936 12 PM Air Mail