Explore "Memoirs of a Midget" by Walter de la Mare on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Yet, in spite of misgivings, no very dark foreboding companioned me that evening. With infinite labour I concocted two letters: --
"Dear Mr. Crimble -- I regret my words this afternoon. Bitterly. Indeed I do. But still truth is important, isn't it? One we know hasn't been too kind to either of us. I still say that. And if it seems inconsiderate, please remember Shakespeare's lines about the beetle (which I came across in a Birthday Book the other day) -- a creature I detest. Besides, we can return good for evil -- I can't help this sounding like hypocrisy -- even though it is an extremely tiring exchange. I feel small enough just now, but would do anything in the world that would help in the way we both want. I hope that you will believe this and that you will forgive my miserable tongue. Believe me, ever yours sincerely -- M. M. "