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Mt. Carmel, House Moses
6. ii. 39
Dear Father Freud,
I am uneasy at not having heard from you for so long. I hope it only means that you are thinking of other things than me, and that you are well and of good heart and are working and thinking as ever. I wanted to be in Jerusalem on Saturday to get news of you. But my strength is still not up to it. My eye specialist and oculist are both in Tel Aviv and that was as far as I could manage. I spoke on the telephone with Eitingon and I hope to see him in about a fortnight.
All this time I have been more depressed than ever. My nerves are in a bad state. Both on the journey there and back I was afraid of being ambushed. This journey took place on the anniversary of my father's death, which made me apprehensive on Michi's account in view of the grandson-grandfather relationship—and he does in fact resemble his grandfather.
I am working at trifles, dealing with overdue correspondence, making plans for America. Am very unhappy at having to be homeless again. But what affects me most deeply is the public issue: Spain. The third victim after Austria and Czechoslovakia, and not the last. Yesterday our housekeeper's brother was shot dead in a bus here—he had been