VIVIEN Renée (Pauline Tarn, known as) [London, 1877 - Paris, 1909], English woman of letters of French expression. Set of 10 letters signed, addressed to Kérimé: Constantinople, [8 August 1905]; 6 1/2 pages in-8°. "I never cease to think of the dazzling vision that you are, I never cease to see you again in my mind as you appeared to me yesterday, so beautiful and so pale ailing princess, too fragile fairy, adorably frail child. I see again the languor surrounded by your dear eyes, and all your dear weariness of sadness whose cause I feel very wicked. But you are going to take care of yourself, to heal yourself, aren't you, in order to appear to me in all the splendor of your recovered health. Ah, what a lovely thing you are [] You brought me such great joy when I woke up, a joy so immense that it burst in me like a new sun, in an intense force of rays. [] I will never be able to tell you all the deep emotion that comes to me from your beauty. I will never be able to tell you, to tell you how much I love you! "A calling card is enclosed: "Flowers of goodbye and remembrance." [1905]; 2 pages in-8°. "My very charming love, I write you this little note with the greatest difficulty forgive its incoherence. [] We are coming back to Constantinople a little later (in eight or ten days) and then I will come to see you. For the moment it is impossible. They won't let me go. I can't tell you what distress and despair I feel to be so close to you in the dear city of our memories. I die of helpless sadness. [1905]; 3 1/2 pages in-8°. "My perfect rose, what a sweetness in this last letter which was given to me at the moment of departure! and what sweetness in its sadness. My thoughts have enveloped you since our farewell. It is around you like a garment that warms, like a caress that protects. Feel it and believe in its reality. [I believe that during these few days I have listened to the song of the sirens. And I return dazzled by you, drunk with you, my mistress. [] Don't be sad, don't cry, I love your eyes so much! Love them as much as I love them. Be concerned about your eyes, as you would be about unique gems, cherish them as you would dark flowers with black velvet petals. Love them don't cry." [1905]; 3 pages in-8°. "Among these landscapes of funereal snow where this great rolling of the train carries me, I think of your distant beauty. Ah my dear poetry! What sadness, and what regrets! [Your letter is in my heart, with a red flower that you gave me the last evening. Be at ease in the firm assurance of my love. You see that I do not forget. [Dear music, sweet moonlight, persists in me like a beautiful eternal thing. [1905]; 4 pages in-8°. "Tonight I remember and I cry, Kérimé... And I evoke you, my brown rose, so beautiful under your veils... so desirable with your offered mouth and your eyes full of darkness and stars. I am only a wandering pain without you... without you... and yet you said to me: goodbye... I leave tomorrow for Florence, passing by Cologne and Basel... It seems to me that, in the places where there will be sun, I will be less terribly far from you... " September 7, 1905; 4 pages in-8°." Give me news, my Far Away, I beg you. Think that I am desperate for your silence... A word, only a word, to reassure me! It seems to me that I have aged of several centuries since I left you... [] I am crazy with love and desire... I beg you, let me come back to you or come to me... later... forever." Venice, [1905]; 3 pages in-8°, letterhead Hotel Royal Danieli "Here is the second stage, and every day brings me closer to you. On the 18th, I embark at last from Naples: I will be in Smyrna on the 21st [] When I think of the splendor of this near moment, it seems to me that I have fairy gardens in my soul. [] Is it true, is it possible that after so many painful months, I will finally embrace you in my eager arms? 1905; 3 1/2 pages in-8°, letterhead Grand Hotel Florence. "Your letter made me cry, cry, cry my dear and cruel love. You doubt me? You no longer believe in my eternally burning tenderness! And that, because giving in involuntarily to the old habit of our correspondence so long already I employed to begin the you of the old days! it was an unconscious, involuntary, stupid, towards the past, that's all. [I don't want you to go to a hotel if you come to Paris. I want you to come to my house. [Say you'll come to my house, my love. It will be just you and me in my apartment." [1905]; 4 pages in-8°. "I am all bruised and battered from a terrible scene that has just taken place between Eva and me. She threatened to kill me first and then herself. Then tears, tears and so much despair. I don't know what to do. It is that