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WACO  17
on in the tub. I had just brushed my lone heavy hair, pinned it up our of the way, laid out some new Spring clothes, Feb. 12, 1918 when "Rap, Rap" at my door. Probably that note from Mom, I thought singing the last bar of, "Good-bye Girls I'm through", called "wait a minute", tried to make my Japanese kimono less "slitty", opened the door, and there stood George, wearing a reddish mustache! We laughed, we cried, George turned off the bath tub water: we felt shy... I was worried about my nudeness showing thru the kimono slits. George seemed so much older, than six months ago. He was husky again. He unpinned my hair once again burying his face in it, (like he always continued to do) poked up the corners of my mouth and said he was going to keep those corners that way all the time. He had to leave for Camp, collect the ring for which I had sent the size, and we would be married that evening, as we had promised Papa when plans changed from Chicago arrangements.
Mom, Phil and I found a minister. George rushed in at 6:45. In the minister's kitchen he washed the castor oil off his face, took off his leather coat and we were married. George took me to a little shop for my wedding present. A real ivory and gold manicure set in a silk lined leather roll traveling case. 
When I woke up the next morning, the day was well along. A note was on the other pillow. War was WAr and cadets had to be trained as far as they could be turned out. Mom and I were to come out to the field when we could which couldn't be too soon for me. The head of a ring of German spies/caught later who had cultivated Mom on the train attached himself to Mom and me with insinuations to me/new bride that were not so.