the work that it is fraught with difficulty to say the least. He lit into some of the stories for fair, rather unjustly, I thought, in some cases. I gave him a copy of my book and he said he would be glad to look it over. Another one of my fellow studies asked me where he could buy a copy. I think he sort of wants to get my number as a playwright, but, won't tell, I should fret.
Went for a swim late this p.m. The tank at the Y. M. C. A. where I go is better than the University Tank and not so crowded. I intend to play it strong all winter. It sure gives one the old pep.
Expect to go out to the Stadium to see death old Harvard play Washington and Jefferson tomorrow afternoon. Should be a good game.
Have just been thinking that this time last week I was in your arms or you in mine. The world do wag on and its waggery decreases my joys instead of increasing them. Ah, that last night with my arm about your waist! You haven't forgotten it either, I know. Dear One, we have at least glorious memories of our past together which augur well for the future. It has been sweet, so sweet to me; sweet with the flavor of your adorable personality, My Own. We have a future together, I am sure, that will more than compensate for the Present's sins of omission. And yet, and yet—My God, it is so hard to wait! I try to bear it with some show of equanimity, to call a patient philosophy to my aid, but it's no use. I want you! I want you! I want you! Bee dear, my own Bee dear, I love you so, so much! Little wife, little wife, I adore you!
But now, alas, when I need you so much you are worlds away from me and