My darling,
I’ve just run home, while some acids are acetylating, to get your letter. I’m going to be late tonight so shall scribble a note to you now, as one written after night clinic wouldn’t get away until tomorrow. It pleases me greatly every time a day ends while you are away because then your return is just that much nearer—and I do so long to hold you in my arms again, little sweetheart.
Pharmacology got soundly thrashed yesterday, but there is much to be done yet as the exam is just two weeks from this next Friday. There is a very good chance that the desired 94 won’t be forthcoming too. Seems as if I never know anything at all about drugs, I don’t know how I fooled Carl F. ((Probably Carl F. Cori, head of the Department of Pharmacology from 1931 to 1947. Cori shared the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in 1947.)) into giving me a 90.
By the way, I hope it is the old Swedish farmer about whom you are so enthusiastic! Had a card, written the 23rd, from Dr. West. He was in Rapid City S.D. and said he was just taking his time, although he must be nearly to Portland by now. Have you heard from him yet? He said he received your letter.
Sorry I can’t write more, but I must run. You probably think I’m silly for coming home just to get your letter, and maybe I am, but, Oh, my darling,
I’m so foolishly and completely in love with you,
Harold