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                                3007 Que ST. NW,
                              Washington 7, D.C.
                                    11 June 1943

Dear Margie:
            It was nineteen years ago and not more than an hour or so in addition. A hot night - hotter than this is here - a rather confused gathering, but all quite clear now as I ease it back from memory.  I don't remember many of the people and some we'll not see again.  There they are, banked around the garden, sweaty around the neck and the waist line, witnesses to our agreement.

            The contract was a good one for me. It would be harder to get me to break it now than at any time in the near two decades.  I did myself pretty well.  I got a good woman.  It was a throw of the dice that brought us together and it was the only piece of pure good luck that I can chalk up for myself on the tally of the years.

A week ago tonight you were here - another hot one.  That's clear, too.  I ought to write some other letters, but not tonight.  I'll settle down to remembering.
        My love, darling.
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