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Yesterday a Red Cross girl was giving me some reading - "Would you like a mystery story, Sir? she said. I couldn't resist apologising a "no thank you, I'm struggling with one of my own!" It was quite an honest reflection darling, - when I said that, you were on my mind (as ever).

Mystery? or Change! Is the greatness of your love no more than a gown to be worn only on special occasions? I have asked myself that frightening question frequently of late. I once thought I knew all there was to learn concerning women, and I credited them with a stable personality. Youthful ignorance wasn't it pet? But I'm not prematurely senile & can adjust quite a lot of misconcspt-ions. Forgive me sweet for my rather aesthetic ideals; 4 years absence has played hell with my understanding.