Letter from Edward Thomas to his wife, Helen Thomas. Archival reference: 424/1/1/1/1/120
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talker but says many very absurd things, for example the (illegible) I quoted, he lives on what is quaint, bizzare, unexpected. Of some manilla wafers he was eating in my room, he said, with his curious cold slowly changing face.
"These biscuits have something of the' light that never was'"
Of the weird liqueur, creme de menthe, he said:

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1.11.99
My dear friend,
You must not be dejected because I return a day later than you thought. Saturday is the regular day for going down. Still, I suppose you are becoming more nervous as your time draws near.
The weather, too weighs heavily on the soul, which can seldom burn like a Christmas log, with a solid core of heat.

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I too am depressed and probably for less cause. Consequently I live quite a soulless existence among acquaintances. It is long since I felt I was a soul in sympathy with nature: For my walks are usually spent in recovering from the effects of high living and plain thinking, very plain thinking,
Physically

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however I am not so bad as I might be, for I scaled 11 1/2 stone the other day, & my muscles are still toned, tho my nerves are like telegraph wires.
On Saurday after Divinity I am dining with Maine and then going to see the Mikado. The afternoon I spent with Morgan on the river. Maine is a brilliant
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have at Patten & co
Give my love to Mary & Irene, please tell mother the (illegible) come to 52 shillings.
I must go now, & please write soon,- so that I get a letter on Sunday! No news.
Ever & Wholly yours Edwy.
Goodbye.

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"To drink it is to anticipate experience." And so on. I should think he could be a Stylist, & I look forward to a paper of his on one of Ibsens' plays.
Macalister continues the good true friendly creature he always was, but we don't very often meet; tho when we do it is as very old
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friends. Giving new life, my married life and my life with Haynes & others, he still knows nothing-or little & probably thinks me the guileless dreamer of two years ago.
He & (illegible) are coming to tea on Sunday.
With Brooke I make
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slight progress, but he is going to give me his photograph next term.
I am very sorry for Irene, shall write to her soon. Does she still correspond with Le Gallienne or have they quite busted up?
By the way I should much like to posess the 2 volumes of Coleridges' letters they