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Santa Barbara Dec. 7, 1943

Dear Miss Wyatt: May I presume upon your kindness and use a pencil, for I am writing in bed and can't struggle with a pen or my Corona? I am not really ill but still bruised with the third week of a cold, an unpardonable weakness in these days of perfect weather like early October in Illinois and Wisconsin, sunny and warm and still, with delicious cool nights, almost frosty. I have an envelope marked "not to open until Christmas," honorably laid away out of sight, a greeting I shall appreciate in due time. This will be a reply to notes & a letter from you in September when