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Dear wife.

Sunday night.

Back from Tino's where I had a good rest. I didn't do anything but eat, talk and sleep.

But first, why did you move? You'll write me why in 2-3 days but it makes me worry as it didn't look like you disliked the place. I found your Telegram now on returning from [[hony?]] Island. These days I worried really. You never been for such long time alone, with not even somebody to whom we are little related (like Covarubias in Mexico in '47), just among people you'll never see again, it makes food for my [[sense?]] of insecurity in these days. I send you the cable a few days ago because it made me think of worst just because I didn't have mail for 4 days.

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Tino has a very pleasant house, he really fixed it well. I spent there the night of Saturday just with the family His little girl is really beautiful (and the boy was jealous because I paid attention to her), a very dignified little child. I was absent minded and I didn't bring any gifts for children and I was sorry. Next day - I mean today - I spent it with the Pollocks who have a curious old house and a farm where he paints (on the floor). She paints too, things that look like labels on trucks that have travelled a lot. 

Transcription Notes:
I think the author tried to say Covarrubias. However, when looked it up, it's a village in Spain, not Mexico.