Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Gerald Yorke

 

 

 

June 10 [1932]

 

 

C[are] F[rater]

 

93.

 

The B in S________m [Stockholm] blames me severely as I thought he would. Says I ought to have been round with you at the time of your desertion of me in Paris, instead of trusting to your (alleged) knowledge of the world. Says that if I had jumped on the egg, the serpent wouldn't be biting me now.

     

Cold comfort. What he's going to do about it he doesn't say, and I can't guess. The trouble with me was that I scarpered my 6º=5o stuff. It never really interested me.

     

Well, you're my executor as well as my executioner; so you have to look after Bill [Bertha Busch]. There will be a loud noise, and there's always money in that. But for God's sake get Walker or some good business-man with ideas to handle it. I shall do what I can to put MSS. in safety, so that he has something to handle.

     

Bill's better over in London; there's no sense in involving her in the details. My idea is to start out on my travels—at the last minute—and get somewhere, or else not. I wish it weren't so blasted cold, and this nose and jaw do complicate matters.

     

Missed Reinhardt here: he's gone to Vienna. I could get to him, and probably sell Mortadello in a week, if Monty Evans [Montgomery Evans] could come with me.

     

Can't write more.

 

93     93/93

 

F[raternal]ly

 

666.

 

 

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