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Nitya did recover somewhat at ‘Ooty’, though on February 19 he was writing to Mary who, with Lady Emily and Betty, had just returned to Adyar from Delhi:
I’ve been in bed for four weeks and my bones are wearing through my skin. The number of times I walk to the precipice of death, look over and walk back again! It is becoming a habit with me. When I really do die at the mature age of 90 or so, I shall by force of habit continue to live ... it’s been the worst four weeks I have ever spent. To feel ill, feeble and a failure is a horrible combination. [He gave Mary some comfort by adding] whatever you do or don’t do I shall always love you.
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