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[Munich, 2 Sept. 1925]*
This is just a first quick word from here. I arrived in Munich two hours ago, but in my thoughts I was really still with you among your mountains, my heart full of gratitude for these long-anticipated weeks. As we left the station—in our princely first-class compartment—the big moon, now almost full, looked at us in all its magic beauty, which you for your part cannot have seen as soon as we did on your way home—a perception which in view of my own defective bump of locality I owed solely to Anna's regretful assurance that this was the case; just as to my great pleasure she kept pointing out the Schüler Villa187 or the Südbahn Hotel, although this seemed to me to be a sort of magic trick, giving the whole countryside a familiar look, as if it would accompany me thus all the way to Germany and as far as Göttingen.
So we still had two happy hours together, and arrived three-quarters of an hour late in [Munich], in an indescribable mêlée due to school excursion trains filled with sick children. Despite all this your son-in-law188 managed to fish us out with the skill of a boy scout, and took us to Frau Eva R[osenfeld]'s, where we were joined by Dr. Bernfeld and had a very pleasant time. After this, cruel fate separated Anna and me at the station. Instead of her I had as sleeping companion in the lower bunk a little Parisian girl, who was indeed charming, but who was unable to refrain entirely from discussing world politics in the middle of the night, although I asseverated vigorously if sleepily that I was only partly of German blood189 and that I had just recently given proof of my enthusiasm for Napoleon. When I alighted from my compartment in the morning, I was still so enveloped in smart Parisian perfume and powder that my relatives who had come to meet me sniffed me over suspiciously.
And now there are many things which I should like to say, but I don't know how. It will not take shape. I sit at the window looking at the rain pouring down (I h