February 24, 1937.

Dear Sidney:–

It would be exciting if you could go as critic for the New York Times to Vassar; then I shall read what you really think of my work.

Miss Weisberg of Phoenix, Arizona, sent me a letter and also one from the American European Lecture Bureau; I enclose copies of both, for your confidential information. That is a fitting climax to all the misdemeanors of that lecture bureau. Things, of course, cannot go on like this; I should not like to conclude this matter through a lawyer, that would be quite impossible. I am enclosing copy of the letter I am to-day writing them.

Do you not know someone from the Committee to whom you could speak personally and confidentially and explain the situation?

I got the contract from McClintic; I am sending you copy of the letter I sent to Curtis Brown. If you think, which I do not, that I am mistaken, then please send me a wire.

I just read that Greta Garbo has again refused the script of Walewska. If only one could tell her, my dear, that you exist. She would rush into your arms and would implore you to personally re-write the play for her. You see I am not jealous and I give you a chance. Take it!

I am physically better. My treatments are very tedious, as I have to go to the Doctor almost daily to have some senseless injections made, but I hope they will be over in two weeks, without doing too much damage to my health!

I enclose a clipping from which you will see that my producer has other sorrows (I think the word sorrows is a anglisation of “Zores”, a word you may have heard in your youth), than Lola Montez. In any event I delivered 64 pages of the story to him two days ago and he told me again I may take it easy and not to work so much.

Joan Crawford too has great sorrows. Not that she is worried about the events in Spain, but she has decided to invent a new fashion with two different tints in her hair. The Hearst paper writes that she dyed her side hair red and the parting on top of her head black. Perhaps this red color means secret sympathy with the author of her new film. I am only afraid it will not be red but pink. You see Hollywood is exciting and Miss Stern gets crazy about all these stirring novelties.

Mrs. Crane Gartz has offered me her phantastic house on Palos Verdes, overlooking the Pacific. I have certain misgivings to take it, because she has an old cook installed there, who undoubtedly keeps a diary and would inform her about all my activities, either vertically or horizontally. Besides I have an idea that Mrs. Gartz is using the place as week-end quarters.

When are you coming?

Oh by the way! I have some more gossip. I heard that Cliff and Luise never know what to talk about. Their entire conversation consists of extraordinary witticisms on the food they eat together, whether it is well prepared or not. Besides Luise is said to speak German with her German guests and Cliff sits there with an open, and sometimes full mouth, and doesn’t understand a word. The whole arrangement is called “honeymoon”. I haven’t seen Cliff up to now. When I was here the last time I rang him up several times and met him by chance, but he never called back.

Love yours ever.

Ernst.

P. S. I sent Christiane some clippings about herself.

Please have a look at them and please prevent Christiane from throwing them away.