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1930 07 - 31 Dear Sherwood-

You asked me a long time ago what I thought of Lady [Chatterly's] lover. I hadn't read it then. I just finished it, and I'm still moving in a daze. How [simple] of [Lawernce] - frustrated, bitter, [[ ]] on defeated madness, to come through at last with a great [tricon] pleasant romance! Because that's what it is - the [worst nap troves], poetic romance our age has seen. Love triumphant over industrial death, over class, position, often - was [[ ]] stood in their way, nothing interfered with them. They were so alone, as free from [[ ]] as tho they'd lived on another planet, or in the chateau of [Tou je et Uow] on eof the unreal things about the book is that strange privacy, which is so alien to our civilization here. We live in a goldfish bowl, but they could really be alone and I'm afraid. Its somehow unreal.