p.

6.

endless & countless things about you which made me love
you always & more & more. I think I was affectionate &
loving - I must have been to be so wonderfully
satisfied & excited & interested & thrilled & happy all the
time - & you have told me I was. But I don't
think I did tell you enough or express myself well - &
I think when I come home, you will have a much
more voluble & less shy lover. Do you want that, darling,
& will you appreciate it? The reason was my sweetest,
that you aroused such marvellous depths of passion in
me - & when we were making love & you were in my
arms & next to my heart & I was so gorgeously inside
you, & we were kissing so beautifully, I could see
your sweet face & look into your darling eyes - I felt
so full of love & passion towards you & so thrillingly
happy - that I just could not speak. But you must
have felt & understood that all my heart & all of me
were yours & that I was loving you, darling you, sweetest
Barbara, with all my heart & soul. Perhaps I said
more than I remember to you, or even as much as you
wanted me to say. But I do feel often, that I was
much too silent & undemonstrative. And I feel too,
I want to make up for it. Or perhaps I shall be
so stirred & rent with love & adoration, & passion, that
I still shall not be able to speak & tell you
what I feel. It is a very lovely way of being tongue
tied & struck dumb if that is the case. I shall
have to write you a love letter from the works, &
send Mawson along with it. Or wait until you go to
London - if I can ever bear to let you go away again.