Well, I got so morbid about the matter that I finally decided to go into New York for a few days and think as clearly as possible. What to do! I have finally decided to go to my grandmother’s place on the Isle of Pines in the West Indies. Getting there will be almost as cheap as moving my things anywhere else--and living will be very cheap for [me] there. I must tell you that Mr. Kahn sent me only $500 instead of the entire second $1,000. It is to be presumed that I’ll get the other half later on. But I can’t ask for more at present, and you can see that there is just about enough to keep me there (my transportation also has to come out of this) until more comes. Out of this I can send you the hundred I mentioned. Won’t it be just as easy for you to wait just a little longer for the rest? I never hated to ask a question so much in my life--but I am simply crushed if I can’t go on a little longer with my effort on _The Bridge_. It’s the one opportunity I may ever have, and I feel I owe something to the faith that Mr. Kahn has put in me. I am not seeking any thrills or pleasure by going to the West Indies in the middle of the summer--I’m sure you can understand how it would be much _pleasanter_ for me to go to the seashore. But _that_ would eat up my little remaining money in two or three months. I need longer to work on _The Bridge_, and I’m willing to go into a furnace for awhile if I can only feel sure about the ground under my feet. On my parents’ property I won’t need to feel that I’ll be insulted again, or forced away. I can _at least_ be sure of that. And that means a lot when you are trying to keep your imagination free and creative. Also, I can live very cheaply there. I may not have enough money to get back when I want to, but I’m not worrying about that--or other hardships. My mother has made a terrible fuss against my going, but is finally reconciled. I realize it’s hard for her to think of me as so far away--but I’ll be still farther away, I think, if my _Bridge_ breaks down entirely. I can’t allow it all to be the victim of malice, envy, jealousy and petty-mindedness. I won’t indulge in any more raving and fury now. But I do hope that you believe me sincere. You very possibly have a right to be angry with me (certainly I have never done anything half so kind to you) but I’ll prove to you in the end that I am sincere in my regard for you. I don’t think I’m a dishonest person. I am sailing for Havana next Saturday. When I get back to New York on Wednesday I’ll send you the hundred dollars. Will you write me a word or so before I go? Send it care of Gorham Munson -- -- -- --. 242: TO ---- AND ---- _Isle of Pines_ [_Cuba_] _May 7_