Germaine INGHELBECHT née PERRIN (1892- ?) third wife of conductor D.-E Inghelbrecht. Approx. 120 L.A.S. "P." or "Pilon", [1922-1932], to Colette Steinlen; approx. 250 pages in various formats, a few envelopes (some letters incomplete). Cross correspondence between Germaine Perrin, and her father R. Perrin in Lausanne, 1927-1928. Abundant correspondence with Inghelbrecht's first wife. [Germaine Perrin, nicknamed Pilon, was very close to Marguerite Steinlen, nicknamed "Biche", and to Colette Steinlen, the painter's daughter and Marguerite's cousin. She was also the third wife of Désiré-Émile Inghelbrecht (they married in 1941, a year before the remarriage of Colette Steinlen, Inghel's first wife, to Roger Désormière)]. Extensive correspondence between two great friends, mainly relating to their daily lives, friendships, loves, Inghelbrecht, Désormière, the painter Théophile-Alexandre Steinlen, Marguerite Steinlen, etc. "Dear Madame, I'm taking advantage of my passage in front of a post office to write you a love letter... you are the most adorable friend in the world, everything I possess that is most precious, priceless. Good night, see you tomorrow" (May 18, 1924). "Inghel is at the beach. We've had two very bad days. He reproached me for having 'changed', and for envisaging a future without him. He wanted me to tell him what I thought. To which I replied that I did indeed wish to have a free man in my life - and that I had never thought that we could remain linked eternally - hence his inner cataclysm - and all that follows - I'm really beginning, at last - to get fed up with his stubborn nature. It's unfortunate, but it's true. I've got a strange feeling inside me, as if I were moving towards something else, towards more space - it's curious - In any case, my torture with Inghel is over" (August 8, 1932). His tender relationship with Marguerite Steinlen: "At Lonay: transparent, cold, slightly agitated water [...] found the poor, clenched little heart of my pitiful doe. Alas, alas... how I pity her. Deep down, I feel, as strongly as ever, this imperious need to have her all to myself. Solitude, rest, nothing is good for her, everything is despair. What can I do? If I see her too much, and with too much kindness, I hurt her. If I don't see her, I hurt her too. [...]. Your father doesn't seem so bad to me. (Friday, July 20). Cross correspondence between Germaine Perrin, and her father R. Perrin in Lausanne, 1927-1928.