Six years ago, I found myself, though fond of you, glad when business took me away. We spent that summer in different places, but about October lived together again. I was still fond of you, but at that time found Vera, whose company was very pleasing to me. You and I seemed to be drawn away from each other and we decided to separate at the end of December, when I started on my long cruise.
I felt very, very sorry to leave you, but something told me that it was better to do so. I remember you seemed to feel the same, and we kissed each other goodbye as though we were both sorry for something that had to be.
Leaving the question of dual or multiple personality aside, and putting the matter very simply, I believe that my soul made a right choice in you my wife. I believe that alcohol was necessary for a while to put my body, even at its expense, into a state of conductivity, so that my soul, when I was somewhat alcoholized, could gain some expression; give some glimpses of itself and suggest the trend of my powers. For this reason I believe that some men are made to drink and drug—but that is another subject which I hope to take up with you more fully at some future time.
My soul self has always wanted my wife's soul self, and I believe that if I could have you back, my conquered body self would never need to wander from home. A little more pliability—all you ever lacked, and which your trouble should have brought you, could make it so that we could live together in very perfect harmony. Then I could release a lot of good plays and good writings, much of which I know already has been completed by my subliminal self. I get frequent glimpses of parts of plays, plots and ideas.
You cannot but feel proud of the success of my last book, which ought to show you that I'm getting a grip of myself. My mother and I were en rapport and under the dual personality theory, it is reasonable to suppose that I have been guided by her since her death. I certainly have been guided by God or by her, and it is reasonable to believe that she is God's instrument of my guidance.
A young man makes whole ranges of mountains out of tiny mole hills which, when he has learned sense, he will spread under his foot without noticing them. Most of our differences were mere mole hills, dear, which couldn't thwart us now. For we are too big now, to be so easily thwarted. Can't we give each other the chance to prove this to each other?
If you will permit me I will love your child as my own—as every real man ought to love every child, dear little unfinished human beings. Formerly I thought I knew a good deal; but God knew better and took me away from you to teach me a few lessons. For they were lessons that I alone needed and God did not want you to undergo them as well as me. They were lessons calling for chastisement and you didn't need chastising.
I've taken God's punishment dear, and thanked Him for it. And I believe I'm fit company for you now.
I am coming next Monday to Custer, four miles from where you are, and on Tuesday morning, starting at eight, I shall walk toward your bungalow by way of the path by the river. I am familiar with every inch of the road, as you know I wrote "Treasure-trove" at the Wilson ranch near your canon.
Will you and your little son meet me if only a few yards from your home so that you may judge for yourself if I am fit company for you now.