T. E. Lawrence to E.M. Forster

14 Barton Street,
Westminster,
London, S.W.1.

5/2/29

Dear E.M.F.,

I am being hunted, and do not like it. When the cry dies down I'll come out of my hole and see people - unless of course the cry doesn't die down, and the catchers get my skin. I have a terrible fear of getting the sack from the R.A.F. and can't rest or sit still.

Some anonymous person or persons bought and sent me a very large and new and apolaustic Brough: so if my life is saved out of the hands of the hunters, it will be a merry one: yet there's a fly in the jam. So large a present (valued at three years of my pay) pauperises me a bit, in my own sight, for accepting it.

Yours

T E S.

Of course, all Clouds Hill is yours, to take away. Are you ever in London?