November 8

[Letterhead]

[Graphic of La Fonda (Hotel)]

LA FONDA
THE HARVEY COMPANY
SANTA FE NEW MEXICO

Dear Frieda,

Please try to read this
because my typewriter is not here at
the moment. I cannot yet say just
when I am coming, if it makes any
difference, which I trust it does not.

I am engaged to Andrew Dasburg. Diego
will probably know who he is. No one
knows it but my family (and Connie,)
who of course have never seen him, so
please don’t say anything. Except of course
to Diego. Andrew has just been
divorced from the daughter of one of [illegible]
Wilson’s Secretary of State. She and her
mother tried to get every penny he
had away from him, in which they
have not entirely succeeded, because
he owns the house they are living in,

[Letterhead]

THE INN AT THE END OF THE TRAIL
AN ALL YEAR ‘ROUND RESORT HOTEL

and the lawsuit involving this property
is still to come. I have to stay until
its settled, because he is deeply concerned
over it. At present he makes a few dollars
a week on criticisms, and is living in
a studio & bedroom without even hot
water. Like many men, he cannot stand
taking money from a woman, and my
comparative wealth might cause all
sorts of trouble between us if I allowed
it to. Also, his wife, acting either
in bad faith or under bad advice, sued
him for non-support, he having spent
the better part of a hundred thousand
dollars supporting her during the 3
years of their marriage, and he
won’t risk being sued on those grounds
again. I’m happy to say he won out
in the divorce hearing without even
testifying, she ruined her own case in
her own way in her own words, had
to pay the costs, and will get no
alimony, and was obliged (by him)
to resume her maiden name, although
she was previously married to a Jew
and has a small Jewish son — (supported

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[Letterhead]

by his father). He also has a grown
son by his first marriage — This wife
follows him wherever he goes & writes
long letters back East about everything
he does. She is crazy, and the boy cant
live with her. Nancy Lane, the last
wife, among other dirty tricks, got
this boy in love with her to separate
him from Andrew. In between these
wives he lived for several years with
Ida Rowe (the ex-wife of Max Eastman)
she is now living here with Lynn Riggs,
one of our promising dramatists. She
and Andrew have made it up. She
owned the house they lived in, they
had a fight, she threw him out, &
before they could get together again,
Nancy came along & grabbed him.

[Letterhead]

At this divorce, Nancy (when she
saw she was beaten) told the judge
she could fall in love with Andrew
all over again. Andrew refused,
because of Mrs. Lane, who is a real
criminal out of jail — and who lived with
them always & would never allow
her daughter & Andrew to work out
their lives alone. After Nancy tried,
and failed, to get him back, Ida did
about the same thing, & yesterday
the first one walked up to him in
the dining room here, where luckily
I was not, he was sitting with some
cousins of mine, and said she wanted
to see him any afternoon. So they
all want him, and one reason I’ve done
this so quickly is that I have to be sure
of him before I go home. But I can’t
worry him yet, on account of the
money mainly, and because he must
have plenty of time to get over this
horrid business which has nearly wrecked
him. He has a Guggenheim Fellowship
for studying fresco in Mexico. Part of it

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[Letterhead]

can be used for work in this country.
He is going to write and explain his
circumstances, & try to get $300.00 for
a trip to Detroit. I want to bring
him, of course, & introduce him to
you, not only for my own pleasure,
but because he needs to get out of
Santa Fe & think about something
else. I think you will both like him,
most people do. He of course knows
Diego’s work & wants very much to
see the new fresco. After that I’d
like to take him home for a few days,
& then he can either go back to
Detroit or return here. He is afraid
of losing his pupils if he stays away
too long, but he is over-nervous, but
because he is without any argument. The

[Letterhead}

best and the best known painter here,
as well as being much beloved by
the whole community — I am so much in
love by now (and none of this has
been easy, as you may imagine) that
I turn cold at the thought of living
at home without him for an indefinite
period. Yet it will have to be done.

He knows he married Nancy too quickly
after his break with Ida, and doesn’t
want to make that mistake again.

He was enough hurt by Nancy to fear
love, he does not quite trust me, at
least not all the time. He understands
me perfectly, and he knows I am
independent, and not wholly absorbed
by interest in sex — like most women —

He has seen me attract a number of men
here, which of course I do every where, and
nobody ever got me yet but Andrew.

He half believes that after I’ve had my fun,
I’ll go away & try something else. Which
I easily might, if I thought he wasn’t
serious. Virginity becomes more valuable to
its possessor the longer it is possessed,
strangely enough I was the first virgin in

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[Letterhead]

his extensive experience, and it has upset
him a good deal. I’m going to arrange
things in such a way that he will not
be able to slide out of it without feeling
like a hound — or like a fool. One has to
protect one’s pride. Mine was so badly
hurt once, long ago, not only my pride
that my whole life was very nearly
wrecked. I came much too close to dying,
and that I will not risk again — He
has come pretty close to death lately,
near enough to contemplate it, and now
that he has the stimulus of a new girl,
he’s pretty scared too. I want to marry
him as much as I every wanted to be
married, which isn’t very much. I can’t
stand being tied down and I can’t stand
having somebody around all the time.

I need solitude. So does he, though not
to the extent he’s been getting it lately.

[Letterhead]

I believe that an exceptionally able,
interesting, and attractive man will keep
me interested, and that his absorption
in his own work & his dislike of the
ordinary circumstances of marriage
will give me time to live and work
under more pleasant circumstances than
heretofor, it has been hard on me to
have had the responsibility of my father,
whom I love & who is a wonderful man
himself, for so many years, & such a
large family & such a large house,
& everything. With a horse & a piano
& a typewriter I can get along any-
where. Its all I want, except Andrew.

I own a horse, & a piano, a typewriter,
& am rich enough to support myself
& them, & let Andrew support himself.

He says he doesn’t want children. I’m not
so young as I was. I’d like to have them,
of course, but I think considering our
needs & requirements we will get along
better without. Also, he loves the West,
& is a first class hunter & fisherman, (2
sports I love) inspite of being very lame.

I’ve been out shooting & fishing with him,

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[Letterhead]

we know we are entirely congenial
out of doors. I admire his work, he has
read a good deal of mine, & he seriously
thinks I am a genius. He is very well read,
& he writes brilliantly himself, as he talks.

He just telephoned. He’s downstairs in
need of a drink, so I must hurry &
finish this & straighten up my room
& put my clothes on. He says he has
a chill. He’s been busy in politics
the last week. I was astounded &
delighted at how much he has
accomplished in no time at all.

I’ve written very fully & freely because
you know I love you both, more than I
do almost any body — I should welcome
a line from either of you saying you
will be glad to see us, if this can be
arranged. Impress on Diego the need of

[Letterhead]

discretion, for my reputation is now
in his hands, as well as yours —

Best love, Maorica —