Forgive this awful paper, but I'm at the office with a few minutes to spare- and I'll have to work into the wee small hours. The travelling auditors are here and want a complete check on our multiple- a small matter- only 6,000 lines. No, I don't intend to do it all myself, but I have to get the night force started on it, I've never made check myself so I'll have to work it out.
Herschel did me wrong on those questions. I missed by one question, the grade necessary for him to win his bet. One of them was, "Who was Clytemnestra" My answer was, the sister of Helen of Troy. The published answer was "The wife of Agamemnon". Herschel of course didn't know that the wife of Agamemnon was the sister of Helen. Oh well- why worry.
Truly I am proud of you, sweetheart. You do keep your secret remarkably well. I say your secret- I suppose it is ours but the secret idea is your own.
What luck! I have found a way back- to Waterloo, that will permit my staying til 9 Sunday night. Not as long as I could wish, but infinitely better than 2 in the afternoon.
I can hardly wait to see you, sweetheart. I'll write to Bricker and make arrangements for the kids to call for you. But it's going to be hard to wait till after the dance to have you all to myself- to tell you all the things I want to- things you've heard before- but will bear repeating. I love you, dear, that is one of the things I want to say.
Truly I hope you won't mind this stationery too much. But I must store up some sleep in preparation of the weekend.
It won't be long now, sweetheart.