September 6, 1940.
Your letter yesterday was so sweet and I do love you so. Please don’t worry, baby, I just have a feeling that everything will be all right. The circumstances on that night, I think prevented you from having a normal period but I just can’t help but think that it will al turn out alright in the end.
I am working now and have frequent interruptions -- so if this letter seems to be a bit disconnected please forgive me.
Billy Wallace and I went to a show last night and had a long talk. Billy is a wonderful boy. I wish that you could know him better.
I’ll swear I can’t think of a thing, darling, but how much I love you.
It just seems like I love you more and more every day and every minute. It seems like ages since Monday. The days and nights without you seem like nightmares and all that I live for is to be with you again.
That thing that worries us just is a terrible blot on our dream of happiness. A thing that just can’t happen to us. I can’t let it. We deserve perfect happiness and we must have it at all costs.
Baby, I don’t know what we will do exactly if things don’t come out right. I don’t feel now as I would care to face your father or mine either. We will just have to go off somewhere and explain that we just had to be together -- which won’t be far from the truth.
I love you