Tuesday June 24. Dailé. Dearest Mother. We are coming to the very end of our time here. The Ramsays leave on the 26th and I on the 28th. They go to Konia [Konya (Iconium)] and I straight across to the Karajadagh [Karaca Dag]. I am looking forward with some excitement to exploring new ground - and it is quite new - with all the information we have gained here. 6 weeks tomorrow, I have been in this mountain. It seems much longer as very full weeks always do. Well, we have accomplished a great deal. This last week has been the most useful of all. Sir W.
and I have been down several times to Madensheher going round all the ruins and digging up a few new things that proved to be important in the light of what we had found in Dailé. We had 3 days' horrible weather, continuous high wind and very cold. The wind was perfectly devilish. But summer has returned today and it is very hot again. The mountain is covered with flowers and I know almost every inhabitant of it and everyone knows me. Charming people they are. It makes me quite sad to think that in all probability I shall never come back here. We have been a sort of small providence, what with our work and the market we have offered. I don't suppose so much money has passed hands in the Karadagh [Kara Dag] since the time of the Byzantines. I have another visitor, a very nice little American woman from the American College in C'ple [Istanbul (Constantinople)], a friend of the Ramsys. Name of Dodd. She's going to travel with the Rs into Phrygia, poor poor lady! I can't think how they travel at all, they are so completely vague and helpless, and I wouldn't share their lot for worlds. However they've done it this way for 30 years so I suppose there is no cause for anxiety.

My simple annals must seem very paltry to you in the midst of all your festivities. Yes, it is very very nice to be completely absorbed in the thing one is doing and to have no interruption in it. I rather shiver to think what a tremendous work it will be writing all this. It will take months I think. I am not going to lecture at all - I've refused to go to Redcar. I must get this book done or someone else will nip in and take the wind out of our sails. I'm afraid I shall not be back till the beginning of August, but as I've stayed so long it would be silly to scamp things for the sake of a week more or less. Please go on writing to Konia. I will write again from here. Your affectionate daughter Gertrude