Letter from Dora Ohlfsen to Gother Mann

Dear Mr Mann,
How are things going your way. I am afraid you have forgotten my address. Are you thinking of coming to Europe this year? If so, we shall, I hope, meet. Next year it will be difficult as I shall be in Australia. I have just written to my sister Mrs Crassfield and told her I wish the medallion of Mr Holman to be given to him so will you be so kind to give it to her should she appear at the Art Gallery. Unless you prefer to hand it over to him yourself. Of course I do not want to give you any trouble in the matter. I was sorry to hear of the death of Sir James Fairfax. This is a great loss. I shall miss him very much when I return. Would you mind letting me know what decision the trustees have come to re those end panels. As they are merely a yard square and will be placed at such a great height, any small figure will be lost sight of. Perhaps one may be well ? by the original design of putting Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci on the two panels. Large faces with deep grooving lines. Please let me know at once as time is pressing and I am afraid I shall not be living much longer in Rome. Certainly the coming Winter will be my last, but I feel events beginning to move for me. I know I shall be going away soon for good. I am leaving for England in a couple of weeks time. I shall write you from there and tell you what is going on. Here one lives feverishly from day to day with the fear of Bolshevism at the door and goodness knows what besides. Very little amusement goes on in these parts—quite the contrary in London, where they are literally dancing mad, at least so I am told. I shall soon see for myself. It is so crowded that you may picture me camping in Hyde Park along with the Aussies, it being impossible to find a roof. Lucky is he who has a bath to sleep in, so they say. I hope you will write to me soon and let me know about the panels. I shall get some estimates for the bronze before leaving for London and look up Burton again and get his, if he has survived the war. Very few of my casters in Paris have survived, I am sorry to say. Goodbye for the present and trusting all is well with you. Believe me ever sincerely yours, Dora Ohlfsen.