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12 February 1911, Vienna, IX. Berggasse 19
Dear friend
I don't want to let this Sunday pass without writing to you. The weekdays are too frantic. I didn't receive your “soulless” letter until the 10th and hope you have thrown off your influenza by now. It was indeed strange not to see your handwriting over your name. I have asked the new Achilles to call on Tuesday and will be glad to take him with me to the Society as my guest. My son is at home, learning to walk. My condition really did begin to mend once the smell of gas was removed.
I am occupied at the moment with the Swede Bjerre, a serious fellow and undoubtedly a man to be reckoned with. He has sent me an abstract of his Stockholm lecture for the Zentralblatt, and also part of a successful analysis of a case of paranoia, which he had already