Thanks very much for your letter and for forwarding the letter to Uncle Tyley. I had a good letter from him yesterday. You cannot know how badly I feel about having caused you and Mother so much shame and suffering -- but I could not write you about all of my and Hadley's troubles even if it were the thing to do. It takes two weeks for a letter to cross the Atlantic and I have tried not to transfer all the hell I have been through to anyone by letter. I love Hadley and I love Bumby -- Hadley and I split up -- I did not desert her nor was I committing adultery with anyone. I was living in the apartment with Bumby -- looking after him while Hadley was away on a trip and it was when she came back from this trip that she decided she wanted the definite divorce. We arranged everything and there was no scandal and no disgrace. Our trouble had been going on for a long time. It was entirely my fault and it is no one's business. I have nothing but love admiration and respect for Hadley and while we are busted up I have not in any way lost Bumby. He lived with me in Switzerland after the divorce and he is coming back in November and will spend this winter with me in the mountains.

Dear Dad,

Hendaye, France, 14 September 1927

You are fortunate enough to have only been in love with one woman in your life. For over a year I had been in love with two people and had been absolutely faithful to Hadley. When Hadley decided that we had better get a divorce the girl with whom I was in love was in America. I had not heard from her for almost two months. In her last letter she had said that we must not think of each other but of Hadley. You refer to "Love Pirates," "persons who break up your home etc." and you know that I am hot tempered but I know that it is easy to wish people in Hell when you know nothing of them. I have seen, suffered, and been through enough so that I do not wish anyone in Hell. It is because I do not want you to suffer with ideas of shame and disgrace that I now write all this. We have not seen much of each other for a long time and in the meantime our lives have been going on and there has been a year of tragedy in mine and I know you can appreciate how difficult and almost impossible it is for me to write about it.

After we were divorced, if Hadley would have wanted me, I would have gone back to her. She said that things were better as they were and that we were both better off. I will never stop loving Hadley nor Bumby nor will I cease to look after them. I will never stop loving Pauline Pfeiffer to whom I am married. I have now responsibility toward three people instead of one. Please understand this and know that it doesn't make it easier to write about it. I do understand how hard it is for you to have to make explanations and answer questions and not hear from me. I am a rotten correspondent and it is almost impossible for me to write about my private affairs. Without seeking it -- through the success of my books -- all the profits of which I have turned over to Hadley -- both in America, England, Germany and the Scandinavian countries -- because of all this there is a great deal of talk. I pay no attention to any of it and neither must you. I have had come back to me, stories people have told about me of every fantastic and scandalous sort -- all without foundation. These sorts of stories spring up about all writers -- ball players -- popular evangelists or any public performers. But it is through the desire to keep my own private life to myself -- to give no explanations to anybody -- and not to be a public performer personally that I have unwittingly caused you great anxiety. The only way I could keep my private life to myself was to keep it to myself -- and I did owe you and Mother a statement on it. But I can't write about it all the time.

You would be so much happier and I would too if you could have confidence in me. When people ask about me, say that Ernie never tells us anything about his private life or even where he is but only writes that he is working hard. Don't feel responsible for what I write or what I do. I take the responsibility, I make the mistakes and I take the punishment.

I know you don't like the sort of thing I write but that is the difference in our taste and all the critics are not Fanny Butcher. I know that I am not disgracing you in my writing but rather doing something that some day you will be proud of. I can't do it all at once. I feel that eventually my life will not be a disgrace to you either. It also takes a long time to unfold.