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Transcription
Status: Complete
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.
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