Catalogue ref: WO 106/5921
The Bloodhound has left his kennel for half an hour so I am scribbling nonsense to you again. Your letter came this morning just as I was dashing out—madly late as usual! You do write such heavenly ones. But what are these horrible dark hints you're throwing out about being sent off somewhere—of course I won't say a word to anyone—I never do when you tell me things, but it's not abroad is it? Because I won't have it, I WON'T, tell them so from me. Darling, why did we go and meet in the middle of a war, such a silly...
...thing for anybody to do—if it weren't for the war we might have been nearly married by now, going round together choosing curtains etc. And I wouldn't be sitting in a dreary Government office typing idiotic minutes all day long—I know the futile sort of work I do doesn't make the war one minute shorter— Dearest Bill, I'm so thrilled with my ring—scandalously extravagant—you know how I adore diamonds—I simply can't stop looking at it.
I'm going to a rather dreary dance tonight with Jock & Hazel, I think they've got some other man coming. You know what their...
...friends always turn out to be like, he’ll have the sweetest little Adam's apple & the shiniest bald head! How beastly & ungrateful of me, but it isn't really that—you know—don't you?
Look darling, I've got next Sunday & Monday off for Easter. I shall go home for it of course, do come too if you possibly can, or even if you can't get away from London. I’ll dash up and well have an evening of gaiety—(By the way Aunt Marian said to bring you to dinner next time I was up, but I think that might wait?)
Here comes the Bloodhound, masses of love & a kiss