Darling, this evening seems an empty and useless thing with you gone. I knew certainly that I should miss you, but not that I should miss you as much as I do. however, I shall know from tonight on that whenever we are apart my thoughts, my heart, and my love will be with you always.
Please tell me all about your trip. Did my dear little sleepy-head get very tired? It was so hot here today that you must have had a disagreeable day on the road.
Is Ouray as nice a place as you expected? And the miners—how many charming ones have you spotted so soon?
Dr. West hasn’t returned yet, but he will surely get here tomorrow or the next day. Nor did I get a letter from my parents today. We are both so anxious to see what they will say too. As soon as they write I’ll let you know what they tell me—or at least all excepting any insulting remarks about my back-sliding.
You know this pen is a hard one to manage. It has gotten so used to writing Bi – 2 cc, and Neo – 0.45 that it almost balks at anything else. I worked on reagents, etc., today—distilled pet. ether, and also saponified some castor oil. Incidentally got into some difficulty so am hoping for the return of the Boss at an early date.
Tomorrow night I am going to see, “The New Moon,” ((Sigmund Romberg, Oscar Hammerstein II, Frank Mandel and Laurence Schwab, The New Moon, 1928.)) and shall be more lonesome for you than ever, since the theme song is called, “Lover Come Back to Me,” ((Lyrics.)) which might, however unaccountably, make me think of a certain dark-haired damsel who has deserted me entirely.
Although you have just gone I’m looking forward eagerly to your return, and I want you to always remember that I love you, little sweet-heart.
Goodnight,
Harold