YALTA, March 26, 1900.
. . . There is no news, there is no water in the pipes either. I am sick to death of visitors. Yesterday, March 25, they came in an incessant stream all day; doctors keep sending people from Moscow and the provinces with letters asking me to find lodgings, to “make arrangements,” as though I were a house-agent! Mother is well. Mind you keep well too, and make haste and come home.
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