tiniest little cloud of a misunderstanding, let's promise not to
shut it up inside ourselves, but to TALK.

Last night, after they all got off,--early, I am pleased to
say, since the chicks no longer live at home,--I came upstairs
and finished my letter to Judy, and then I looked at the
telephone and struggled with temptation. I wanted to call up 505
and say good night to you. But I didn't dare. I'm still quite
respectably bashful! So, as the next best thing to talking with
you, I got out Burns and read him for an hour. I dropped asleep
with all those Scotch love songs running in my head, and here I
am at daybreak writing them to you.

Good-by, Robin lad, I lo'e you weel.

SALLIE.