10,000 Tampa Avenue
November 30, 1945
This is just to show that I do write letters occasionally—and that I think of you, not occasionally, but always.
Seeing you again was one of the best memories I’ve brought back from my trip to New York—next to the memory of the Empire State Building. And maybe even as good as the Building—though in a different way. But while the sight of the Empire State will have to last me only for another year—the sight of you will have to do for four years, and I hate the idea.
You’re going to cause me to become a split personality: on the one hand, I wish you the most sensational success with your job in England; on the other hand I hope they’ll fire you in a month and send you back to us. But since I’ve said that I’ll make almost every kind of exception for you, I’ll be an altruist, for once, and wish you the first, since that is what you want. As an egoist, I’d prefer the second.
I hope you’re still watching “The Fountainhead” on the best-seller lists and feel about it as I do. Bobbs-Merrill have kept their promise, they are running good ads for the book, and I’m pleased about it.
Wait till you see the Kings Features condensation of the book, with pictures. I’ve seen the first week’s advance proofs—it’s amusing and quite exciting. It will begin to appear in the newspapers on December 24—just like a Christmas present. Do you want me to send you a complete set of proofs when they’re ready? I guess they’ll have to go to you in England.
Drop me a line before you leave, so I won’t feel too badly about it. All my best wishes, darling, for a safe trip, a good time and a great success.
Give our best regards, from Frank and me, to your mother, to Betty, the kids and yourself,