_Rome,
March._
_Dushenka moya_, you do not know what these little words mean? Then
you cannot forbid that I call you that. Long time I am coming but had
much work to do. Now my passage at last is engage, and the boat that
bring me I hope she fly. So I fascinated you with my mysterious tales,
your letter says? Then shall I tell you more when we meet, about the
enchanted Princess with the beautiful golden hair, yes?
Ah, my poor little Hummingbird, I hear your young Diplomat he is
staying in Rome; there is no need, but then, oh la la! Always the
gray-eyed lady of Da Vinci is with him, and they tell me that every
day they go off into the Campagna and ride and ride and come back very
cheerful. I am angry for you. When I come, will you receive me kindly
like the true friend who will always remain your obedient Boris?
* * * * *