(c) Have you much or any pain?
(d) What can I do for you first?
(e) Have you a library subscription?
(f) Is there anyone in the neighbourhood who can read aloud, endurably?
(g) (Don’t worry: you are not to have the whole alphabet.) Do games of solitaire appeal to you?
I want you to think of me as your Universal Provider and to express your needs without any reserve. For what else am I useful? Consider me, in short, as a Callisthenes whose motto is “Deeds not Words.”—Yours,
R. H.
P.S.—(h) Have you a gramophone? And if not, does the idea of a gramophone repel or attract?
P.S. 2.—Dearest Verena, I hate it that you should be ill—you who live normally a hundred minutes to the hour. But if there is no heritage of weakness you will be all the better for the enforced rest. That I intend to think and believe.
P.S. 3.—Yours, again and always,