Null DUMAS, Marie Alexandre Letter aut. S. To a "dear friend". S.L. [c. 1850 ?] …
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DUMAS, Marie Alexandre Letter aut. s. to a "dear friend". S.l. [c. 1850 ?] 2 pp. 1/2 on bifolio, 20.5 x 13.5 cm, bluish laid paper (3 small ink stains in white margin at head of 1st p.). Long, passionate letter from M.A. Dumas (1831-1878), painter and woman of letters, to an unidentified alleged suitor, whom she rejects with great finesse and firmness: "[...] I am not a child, dear friend, I came into the world without a mother (if that can be said), I have always had to behave according to my instincts and without any advice [...]. [Today I see danger and know how to prevent it - don't laugh at me - [...]. It seems to me that for an admirer of Alex. Dumas you have little to admire, since my father is still in Paris. That for an art lover, you only see bad painting, and that seeing it so often won't make it seem better. That for an ordinary friend, your visits are a little too close together. That for a man who wants to love (forgive me this assumption) you are mistaken. Let's get straight to the point [...]. Are you a man who wants to amuse himself with an isolated woman, no, you're loyal, I'm convinced [...]. Are you a man [...] who has serious intentions, no, I'm sure you don't, and even if you did, you'd have to give up thinking about it, because any liaison other than a good friendship is impossible between us [...]".

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DUMAS, Marie Alexandre Letter aut. s. to a "dear friend". S.l. [c. 1850 ?] 2 pp. 1/2 on bifolio, 20.5 x 13.5 cm, bluish laid paper (3 small ink stains in white margin at head of 1st p.). Long, passionate letter from M.A. Dumas (1831-1878), painter and woman of letters, to an unidentified alleged suitor, whom she rejects with great finesse and firmness: "[...] I am not a child, dear friend, I came into the world without a mother (if that can be said), I have always had to behave according to my instincts and without any advice [...]. [Today I see danger and know how to prevent it - don't laugh at me - [...]. It seems to me that for an admirer of Alex. Dumas you have little to admire, since my father is still in Paris. That for an art lover, you only see bad painting, and that seeing it so often won't make it seem better. That for an ordinary friend, your visits are a little too close together. That for a man who wants to love (forgive me this assumption) you are mistaken. Let's get straight to the point [...]. Are you a man who wants to amuse himself with an isolated woman, no, you're loyal, I'm convinced [...]. Are you a man [...] who has serious intentions, no, I'm sure you don't, and even if you did, you'd have to give up thinking about it, because any liaison other than a good friendship is impossible between us [...]".

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