This afternoon was such a terrific storm that I can hardly recover. The play was so wonderful - so bad - it triumphed - it failed - a little of everything seemed to happen and all round one there were these strange human beings - I don’t know - they seem to me, I think, too strange. They frighten me beyond words at moments. I feel the only thing to do is to run away, crossing oneself - or doing whatever one would do if one was terrified. And I feel, too, that the only person who did understand The Cherry Orchard as Tchekhov meant it to be understood was - - -
Would you come & see me one day next week: Ill keep all next week free until I hear from you. Or I could meet you in town. There’s so much to say & I am going away the first week in September.
May I have 2 copies of ‘Prelude’?
I want to send you my love & admiration dear Virginia.