p.

8. Summer is very much here now, and it is pretty hot, but not frantically so, providing there is no Klamsee blowing. Writing in my room is pretty stuffy though. 100% blackout, & so no ventilation at all - & so I just perspire, & the paper curls right up into a roll which take my hands off it. All this, of course, is why I go sleepy when I try & write to you, late on & when I am tired. But I feel particularly fresh & full of energy tonight - & it is already 12-0 o'clock.

The Crete show was hell, while it lasted, wasn't it. They have now announced that the Leicesters were in action there - I hope to God, Frank is alright. I should feel very sad indeed if anything has happened to him; I know you would like him very much, & I am looking foward to having him as one of our friends, after the war. I think I will send him a short cable tomorrow.

I am still without further word from you, & I am so anxious to hear more news from you. Perhaps tomorrow. I do hope & pray that you are feeling really well now, my darling, & getting rapidly stronger. And that the feeding of the baby is going easily & well. I hope you feel wonderful, with your figure restored, & able to walk about easily again & put on pretty clothes again. And I do hope you are being very careful & looking after yourself & doing those exclusive exercises. Oh, but I should be there with you. A thousand kisses, sweetest darling, all over your dear face, & your sweet mouth, lovely, lovely eyes, & every where too. I think so much & my imagination is very much alive. Darling Barbara heart. I love you with all of me & for always & always more & more. And a big kiss to the baby.
Forever your Harry.