ONE LETTER FROM MARGARET VAIL

The following letter is exactly as MV wrote it. As it is my property, I am free to make such a copy. I could not scan it. I hunted and pecked. I do not know how I can get the chapter into this blog. Perhaps my computer tech can show me how. I have not found the letters she wrote to me before this one, but found her last one. It is in almost indecipherable longhand. Enjoy!

Chateau de Launay
Sigournais
Vendee
France
March 23, 1960

My dear Mrs. Rinard,

I have not forgotten, I never have forgotten that I promised to send you the enclosed excerpt from my book. And, as I said in the article. “Margot usually finds a way to keep her promises.” I have been rather long in keeping this one, but I always intended to do so.

First, I was so very ill, having been stricken with a vascular cerebral hemorrhage which could have been much more serious than it finally proved to be. However, it kept me on a chaise longue for months, unable to use my typewriter, obliged to rest, rest, rest.

Then, in May, (after an unexpected and unnecessary bout with pneumonia) I went to America to spend a few months with Rose Helene, to consult doctors there. I was in New York City, did almost no traveling – only to Baltimore and to Washington to visit friends there; I lived quietly and peacefully with Rose-Helene in an apartment loaned us by friends who went away for the entire summer.

Before I returned to France, in November, I agreed to write a novel for Doubleday’s, not under contract, but at their request. That is to say, they asked me to try my hand at writing a novel for them but they are not obligated to accept it. I have worked very hard ever since my return, spending eight hours every day at my typewriter and I have finished about 300 pages which are now in Doubleday’s hands. It is not certain, it is not at all certain, that they will accept the ms., even with re-writing provisions. They may reject it, and I am prepared for a rejection. I shall finish the book, nevertheless – it is about two thirds done – and my agent will submit the ms., probably, to Lippincott [publisher of YITE] before trying other editors.

That is why I have written no letters this winter, but most of my friends know what I’m doing, and understand that one cannot write letters and a book as well. However, the enclosed chapter will be fitted into my book somewhere so I thought I would get it written, send a copy to you – thus keeping my promise to you while not wasting precious time doing it.

I wonder how you and your nice little family are, what new and absorbing occupations you have found. You sound such an interesting family, so typically American, nice American, and I am very glad you wrote me and gave me a glimpse of your life.

You do forgive me, don’t you, for having taken so long to send you this piece? And for not making this letter any longer? I must get back to work. With kindest thoughts and very best wishes, for you, your husband and babies, I am

Very sincerely yours,
G. [undistinguishable] de Launay