ABSTRACT
In the recently published letters of Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf, there is an entertaining missive from 1927 in which Vita, recovering from a Christmas flu, describes a “delightful” dream induced by aspirin:
I dreamt that I dined with Eddy Sackville-West, a party consisting of Eddy, Charlotte Brontë, you, and me. Eddy seemed vexed and anxious, and after dinner took me aside to say, “Vita, you must find me very attractive to put .up with such a dull party on my account?”
