A Letter written on Nov 2, 1919

Sunday, Nov. 2.

Margaret love:

I was knocked quite silly by the various missives yesterday morning, but by way of a secret resolve to go at once and see you with my own eyes I managed to achieve a calm that was intended at least to be a pale reflection of your once magnificence in that direction. But alack, I realize that "they" really have you in thrall for Dr. Elizabeth opines by telegraph that visitors are altogether unnecessary. Blessed darling, I take grim comfort in knowing that if you had your say, these blooming doctors would not keep walls between us, but I also see that at present you can't get up and whack them for me. - But my word! how I do want to do some whacking, not at the doctors precisely because if they are really doing all the things that ought to be done, and you are going to be better, of course I am on my knees to them one and all. - but I do want to whack the fate that lets anything ruffle even one hair in those beautiful tight braids of yours.

Oh, what silly things words are. They fairly swirl around my pen's point, all sorts of lover's words, but I cannot find one that will say enough. But I dream it, think it, feel it, my Margaret darling, that "it" that makes you one of the most precious things in all my world, the "it" that if it could would so joyously take every atom of hurt out of every day for you.

Yours,
Laura