{London,] City, 14 November 1860 

Dear Engels, 

Our letters crossed.*** These few lines, acknowledging the £5 
which arrived this morning, are being written at Borkheim’s office. 

There is a simple explanation for my having written so seldom 
of late, and then only a few lines at a time, namely overwork, 
indisposition and rrouste of all kinds. By the end of next week, 
when my hands will again be free, I shall be writing to you just as 
before. 

I have today sent you by post the number of Stimmen der Zeit I 
mentioned yesterday,* but I must have it back by next Wednesday” 
at the latest, since it::is borrowed. 

I shall include the notice from the Guardian,—which I found 
helpful, thank you for it—among the ‘Appendices’ in the 
concluding chapter.”*” 

Biscamp married the day before yesterday: an American whore. 
Good luck to him! 

Imandt has written. Has a daughter. Has grown thin as a rake, 
has been ill all the summer and still is. Pauvre diable!° 

Borkheim sends his regards. B. has obtained permission from 
his firm to trade privately in wines and asks you to remember him, 
should you feel able to help him in this line (every conceivable type 

of wine). 
No other news. 
Salut. 
Your 
K. M.