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98 Saturday, April 7, 1928 know where I'm at, but I do know I can't have him the way he is — and I know too — — I cannot [[strikethrough]] stand [[/strikethrough]] just forget, when this empty feeling inside keeps reminding me. If only B. knew—! I wonder if I should be happier if B. and O.E.D. made theirs a mutual love—! I am filled with remorse when I think of Al. How fair and just Fate is. I understand your actions now, Al — And I'm so terrificly young, that all this sounds foolish. If it only were foolish — then I would laugh and laugh. Perhaps I shall laugh anyway — but there is no excuse to. And how "dramatic" it would be. No — I must be sensible and let Fate take her course — and do my best, because I love him so awfully. This emptiness is terrible — And the uncertaintty — And my having to keep it all in. Good, there is noise outside. The milkman is hanging bottles and whistling and the horses are stamping on the [[strikethrough]] ungulating [[/strikethrough]] asphalt, and automobiles are whizzing by — and the City is waking up — after a good nights sleep? Aline — Stop being an idiot! [[marginalia]] I've just reread this. Really, you must forgive me for being too literary and dramatic at times like this. Perhaps it's because my emotions are too real and [[?al]] for my power of words. [[/marginalia]] 99 Sunday, [[strikethrough]] April 8 [[/strikethrough]] Jan 20, 1928 To-day I wrote O.E.D. a note comforting him about Billie. It hurt me terribly to write it — but he needed it. So I did.