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I never felt so guilty and conscience-smitten in my life. You are not the only neglected correspondent, however. Even my parents had to be satisfied with postals and I was selfish enough to want letters from them. I am filled with remorse now. I made a half dozen starts to write your letter but with so many interrumptions I gave it up. Now you are only getting a stingy four page note, one half apologizing for not writing sooner and the other - You know the rest.
We are just immersed in
I decided to have a good time before beginning my grinding so I went to the matinee last week and saw “Within the Law.” It was great. I never saw anything so exciting. Of course, I raved and raved for hours afterward.
Last Friday I heard [Ochacleska?], soprano. She’s a wonder. Melba says she has the most beautiful voice she ever heard. She is blind, but very attractive.
Last evening, J. Noble, Organist of York Minster, gave a recital in chapel. It was beautiful.
All the upper-classmen are excited over the dance, February 14. Think of Vassar with all those
I’m at work on another long theme. This time it’s critical writing. [underlined: The Master’s Victim], by Myrtle Reed, is my subject. It’s really interesting work.
In spite of pessimistic predictions [Florine?] came back to college. She gave me two pretty pictures, one a Harrison Fisher.
Elma, the other girl, in the other side of the alley, is in the infirmary with grippe. The room was fumigated and such an odor!
Edna Gertrude Bachman.
January 16, 1913.