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112
October 26th 1894.

Dear Mo,
I had no idea that when the time came for leaving I should feel so badly.  I know its only for two days, but then -. And if I were here we might not so much as see each other.  I wonder if you care?  One moment I think yes, Mo cares or why should he have chosen this Sunday to go away, and then when the could not have him why did he want to go to New York and say there was no use being here, there was no one and nothing to do.  Oh Mo
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I will miss you very much.  Miss passing you in the street, miss knowing you are not very far off, and we may meet any moment, but its only for two days.  Monday I will be back and if you want to you can see me in the afternoon.  But as if you cared!  Oh what fools we mortals be.  Now why can't I send you this letter, just as it is, instead of writing it here where you will never never see it.  And why can't you answer it in just [[strikethrough]] in [[/strikethrough]] the same spirit it was written the spirit of truth?  Why are there so many conventionalities?