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not shiny - but like old wood worn by the hands of many generations—  I must talk about it although you will want to hear about us - not Venice.   We did not send word from Milan that we were coming. And were to get here at 7.30 P.M. dark of course—  But we knew we were coming to the Pension Aurora - and there on the way through the station was a Man with 'Pension Aurora' on his hat - and that was the end of our responsibility—  We found ourselves in a gondola among shining waters, and twinkling lights 

If I had'nt been getting a cold and had'nt been shivering, it would have been perfect, as the red moon was just rising and the palaces were ghostly over the black water—  It was so still - not a sound but lapping water and voices in the distance a little louder perhaps for the 
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[[newspaper clipping]]
Trois jeunes filles de Boston appartenant à
[[des]] familles très connues, [[...]]
dans la nuit de [[sa--?]] di [[dan--?]]
[[/newspaper clipping]]

Venice. Oct. 23.

My dearest Aunty—   Where do you think I read your nice long, letter this afternoon - where, but on a long worn white marble seat in the Giardino Reale - beside The Adriatic with a corner of the Ducal Palace in sight, And if I chose to look up and out - all the delicate Panorama of of pearly Palaces and pale blue water - lively with black gondola's—  And yet The letter came right out of our cozy evening dining room And into open Venetian sunshine And was not inharmonious.

How many weddings - I like to hear every little thing about it all—  But I wont stop to comment as I have so much to say myself—  We are in a nice German Pension  How shall I tell it all.  That seems such a stupid way to begin.  The photographs of Venice 
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