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November 1st. 95. My Darling Clarence, The pens are all so angelic that I thought the atmosphere would be less blue, if I wrote to you with a pencil tonight, so please excuse. I am shrinking all up, with the wretched depression of November upon me; it has come over me like a cloud today in spite of all I have to be happy for.
Macdonald took lunch with me this noon. I started reading "Laurence" last night, Sweetheart, it is indeed beautiful. Just here was interupted, so I am continuing during recess at choir practice Leicester is singing with the tenors tonight I don't know how he happened to get out of Law school so early. Many people wished me happiness at St. Pauls Church tonight. The report has just reached there. Somewhow, I feel as if their wishes were quite superfluous always. Mrs Fallows remembered you quite well, and said that she met you and bowed to you about two weeks ago she did not know whether you remembered her or not. This is a sample of my bad writing, you will do well if you decypher it. Well,darling, I am afraid I must come to a stop, If you get this tonight there is a sweet goodnight kiss in it, if in the morning a happy greeting for the day. God bless you my own true heart, and keep you always pure and noble. Good night my own darling Claire your ever loving (little) Sunshine
why am I such a crank? I went down to see Mrs Sturgess this afternoon to ask her to announce my choral class tomorrow. I shall meet them next Friday afternoon at four o'clock. Tonight I go in to a harvest home supper at St Paul's church, and from there to choir rehearsal. You must remember and look at your mail box at any and all times when you pass in and out because there is no telling when you will find something there. Edith Rome and London