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Sunday night

Dear beautiful, delicate, smooth, woman, 

I'll have—I hope—some mail from you tomorrow I hope you are well, but write me the truth dear, about your health and bout how you feel and everything else.

Today it rained and I stayed at home all day, I took a long bath and Ihad enough stuff in the icebox to eat at home.  I talked all day only once (with uncle Harry who called on the phone this morning and gave me his news about you).  If I'll feel like—it's 9 o'clock now—I might go see a movie but won't probably I'll go to bed finish the Scarlett Letter.  I was busy all day with the jackett the book (it drives me nuts).  It has to be ready tomorrow and I haven't yet decided.

Talking about parents: what's the news from yours?  I imagine you gave mine some money and you can always write a cheque on H. Steinberg chequebook.  My mother wrote me very
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