Thomas goes on to apologize for one of their dramatic quarrels and to announce his eminent return to London to seek a reconciliation. "I could come straightaway to you if—if you will have me. Christ, aren't we each other's? This time, this last time, darling, I promise you I shall not again be like that. You're beautiful. I love you. Oh, this Blaencwm [sic] room. Fire, pipe, whining, nerves, Sunday joint, wireless, no beer until one in the morning, death. And you aren't here. I think of you all the time, in snow, in bed."
A fine letter of remorse and cabin fever from a snowbound Dylan Thomas
Please call 1-800-555-5555 to order a print catalog for this sale.
L'inscription pour l'enchère en ligne est fermé pour cette vente . Voulez-vous regarder la vente en direct?Visionner La Vente En Temps Réel