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Nov 27 1943
Dear Hedda,
Yesterday I received 4 letters from you thru ONI (15 to 19 October) You crazy if you really think what you write me about me being absent minded about you and what I left (you) when my train left Washington. I'll tell you only that now, with the time, everything [[strikethrough]] has [[/strikethrough]] that is past - near past, the time when I was able to stay an evening with you, so good to me and so good by yourself, your words and your arms and your gray rough dress, the one you had when I came once in furlough from Washington (you had on you the dress only and that was more than many many words you could have said to me and I feel my hands getting cold and the blood going at the right place where I remember that -

Everything that is past has now wonderful proportions and is beautiful, about [[strikethrough]] every [[/strikethrough]] only thing that keeps me up here in this artificial situation, I mean here where I can't be happy - far from you and the happiness I had with you in a long time for such a short time - you know me [[strikethrough]] soo [[/strikethrough]] well enough to understand that I [[strikethrough]] to [[/strikethrough]] don't have the quality of being happy when I'm supposed to be but please don't think the things you wrote in