p.

2.

a bad day, & very properly sitting down & getting it off
your chest a bit by writing to me. I know the
feeling so well, - I'm afraid I often do it to you.
It may be a bit selfish, but I don't think so
really. We must just write to each other what we
feel - & I'm damned if I feel happy, or even really
want to, & so there you are.

Your descriptions of Maxie become more & more
charming. It is like you to feel heartbroken that I cannot
see him - & I do feel more sad & frustrated & helpless
than I can tell you, that I shall never have seen
him during his first years & there is still no sign of
doing so. He does sound to be very like Lisa - & in
the snaps of you holding him in the garden, he
looks very like the one of Lisa sitting on your
knee in the Moorfield Cottage garden. You say that
the only [?] you can find is that his mouth is
perhaps too small - but you should not worry - I
expect it will grow bigger & become exactly the
right size for his face. At the moment, it is just
made to take in one of your nipples, the darling
lucky little chap. If & when I have an interview
about compassionate posting, I shall stress as hard as
I can about wanting to see Max - I really do
think they should make some special allowance for
fathers who have never seen a child - & especially
so in our case, as we have lost Lisa.

Every time I think of the awful separation, all
kinds of thoughts cross my mind, about how I should
have resisted it; it is galling to think of it now,