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[[preprinted]] [[underlined]] February 23 [[/underlined]] [[/preprinted]] and Sunday I didn't want to see him so I didn't stay at home to see if he would call. Monday in the library he wrote me a note. - "May I request you please not to display my emotions? I don't appreciate you telling Alice McNair about Sunday nite at the so call Green Tree Inn." - then a chart showing thru what people the [[strikethrough]] puor [[/strikethrough]] information came - then: "I destest confidences' you said in a letter - and you call me inconsistent - Will you grant my request?"- and I wrote back some excuse that I had said nothing - and I hadn't either but why in God's name do I have to make excuses to him - Damn his emotions - and wouldn't I be displaying mine while displaying his - I hated him. I didn't want to ever talk to him again. That evening he called twice to apologize. I wasn't generous, but why should I be? --Only that I love him more than I have ever loved anything. The next day he came over to me again in the library, wrote that he was glad to see me alive for he had dreamed I was dead. (What a droll idea - no such luck.) I was busy - he left. [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] [[underlined]] February 24 [[/underlined]] [[/preprinted]] Since then I've only seen him several times. Today has been so queer - I wanted to see him in the Libr. but he left - ran across him in the book store but I didn't turn to speak to him. I guess I do want him - I know I do! Sunday nite I was at Dooley's, came home and read. [[underlined]] A Dome of Many Colored Glass [[/underlined]], by Amy Lowell. Long after midnight I came to this delta iota psi alpha - - - "Tell me once more you love me and tis you. Yes really you, I touch so, with my hand and tell me it is by your own free will that you are here and that you like to be just here with me - - - I need to hear it often for my heart doubts naturally, and finds it hard to trust. Ah dearest you are good to love me so, and yet I would not have it goodness, rather excess of selfishnes in you to need me thru and thru - - - "Has your life too been waiting for this time, not only mine the sharpness of this joy?" - [[underlined]] November 28 [[/underlined]]. I stopped quite suddenly. - God! What an existance. How much longer will I stand it. [[strikethrough]] This [[/strikethrough]] Last night I went to sleep playing Peer gynt. It made me feel as if the mono [[strikethrough]]s[[/strikethrough]]tony were crushing me.
Transcription Notes:
Poem Diya by Amy Lowell from A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass