3/18/39
Darling Baby:
I received your two precious letters yesterday just as I was leaving for Al’s for dinner, and realizing that you wouldn’t get the answer until Monday anyhow, I didn’t reply just then. It is after 5 P.M. the following day and I have just gotten in from last night’s dinner engagement!
OK on the Doc’s report of Tuesday. The low blood pressure, I believe, can be fixed by diet and rest. The pains, I hope, can be alleviated in some similar simple manner.
Honey! Please don’t ever try to kid me again, even on such a simple little thing as your hairdo. If you want to change it, you don’t have to ask my permission. And when you do change it, just say so. But please, darling, don’t kid me about it. I’ll always find out eventually and it hurts many times more that you didn’t tell me than if you told me and disagreed with me. But don’t let it worry you. I think I should like the new arrangement better than the old anyhow!
The phone call yet sounds good and I can not see any good reason for not doing it. I just hope that I can stand it.
The carbon copy business is simple. I suggested to John that if he and I sent carbon copies to you of our letters to each other and vice versa, that it would save a lot of explanation in our letters to the other party. I also said that I reserved the right to make deletions in his copy of the letters to you. But since I never think of using two carbons, the idea will probably flop as far as I’m concerned.
Now for the letter I received today.
I’m sure that the folks will understand your not getting there Thursday night.
Business before pleasure—When you see Webb on Tuesday, find out everything about the tb business and x-rays and probable cost—and let me know the entire story. If there is anything at all wrong, you may not be able to afford to do anything about it just now—but we can’t afford not to do everything that we can possibly handle between us. I realize that the test was of the variety that told you definitely that you didn’t have it with one result, but only indicated that you might have it with the other result. We must find out definitely as soon as possible.
There are two points which I feel that I should make, and truly want to make, at this point.
The first one, which is probably unnecessary, I shall mention in case you should have become frightened. I have suspected the possibility of tb ever since I first met you. I am a fool for not making you look into years ago, and if anything is wrong, I shall never forgive myself until it is all straightened out. But when I asked you to combine your life with mine, I meant it without ANY restrictions whatsoever. I can only exist without you—I can live with you. No matter what comes up, darling, I am definitely yours, and have lived a lie, and not a very pretty one, during the years that I was not openly yours. I know that I shouldn’t write such things at the present time, but I want you to know them and be sure of them. Never be frightened that I won’t provide for you to the best of my ability.
The second point is this. I can’t stand to feel that I don’t know the entire story on anything connected with your well-being. It isn’t curiosity, but I suppose it is sort of a “paternal” concern. You’ve been my own little girl for so long that I am afraid I could never be happy when you weren’t happy and safe and sound. So let me know all developments in this little business, as well as the result of the Wasserman test. Since this other has turned out the way it has, I have no fear of the latter turning out positive. But don’t kid me about anything in this line. It can only lead to unhappiness for both of us if you do.
That is rather strong talk. I wouldn’t talk to anyone but myself and my wife that way. But it is the old story that we discovered so many years ago. Together, we can lick any opposition. Alone, you are an ordinary little girl usually afraid of you just don’t know what—I am a drunken dreamer, puffed up with my own importance. We must never be separated again for any reason.
Now for more pleasant work. Precious, I love you so much that nothing can stop me from having you. We must carry on together. It has been very flattering and very swell to have such a staunch little side-kick the last eleven months. I don’t know what little girls are made of, but mine is an awfully good medicine for this dopey guy.
The dinner was fine last night. Howells live in one of the sloozy suburbs, although it is probably not a bit more nice than Glen Ellyn or Wheaton. Al and I went to the Philadelphia Forum and heard a lecture by Dr. Knight, an Englishman, on eagles. He took a trip for the National Geographic into Africa to study one of the types there, and illustrated his lecture by motion pictures, still pictures, and slides of terribly funny sketches which he drew. The climax came at the end of the lecture, when he had the lights turned up—and there was the eagle which he captured as a baby just a little over a year ago—thing did tricks and everything—about 4 foot wingspread. He was an awfully good lecturer and I enjoyed it muchly. We then went back to Howells, Al insisted that I spend the night with him, and hit the straw about midnight. This morning, we woke up about eleven and spend an hour in bed. He read me part of a novel which he wrote for a graduate course at Penn State. It was excellent, and I believe I can talk him into rewriting parts of it and submitting it one of the magazines for publication. After lunch, we window-shopped in Philly, spending most of the time in Wanamakers.
Gee, I missed you. I got back here about an hour ago. I don’t know what I’ll do about the rest of the weekend—probably study or something. I may take a hike in the morning if I feel like it.
Al’s father is apparently dead. His mother is quite a sweet person, and they are all intelligent. They are taking a trip to Havana in a couple of weeks, Al’s spring vacation (he teaches English and French in one of the high schools). Also taking a trip abroad this summer.
Well, precious, I must hi me out to supper. Don’t forget that you owe me some pictures of the new hairdo! Haw haw. You got stung on that deal, didn’t you. I don’t know what I would have done at Aiken’s last week and Al’s this week without my two snapshots of my baby. I have two at home and two with me.
Still your best friend, your lover, your true husband. Cy