4th June 1936 - Mary to Terrick

O.V.S.
Thursday 3.55

Dear Terrick - having an odd moment between my children's departure and the tea gong (Miss X being out) I thought I'd write you a letter.  I may not have time to finish it - but that won't matter - one of the nicest things about a letter, to me, is the look of it's envelope.  You know you often say "I'm sorry I didn't write to you, but I didn't have time" - & I do, too, sometimes - well, I've been thinking to myself just lately it isn't time you need to write the kind of thing that would make the whole day seem like it does when I'm going to see you in the evening - but just "kindness".  I don't suppose you quite understand yet.  But if, say, when you hadn't seen me for 24 hours you just wrote either 
(a) "I still love you"
or (b) "Have just seen marvellous bedroom suite for 6¾ d
or (c) "Party last night great success"
on the back of a bus ticket & posted it to me - it would quite equal half going to the pictures with you or ⅓ going to the "Continental" with you.  So you see, two of them (provided they were on two successive dates) would save you the price of a whole evening's outing - and three of them (provided they were on three successive dates) would save you a whole evening's entertaining!  But I feel you never think it's worth writing unless you've got an hour to spend concocting a super letter - whereas it's worth 40 times more than you can possibly imagine - just because I know it's written when you hadn't got time - but made it specially for me - any more weeks with you in the distance all the time will be almost unbearable- it seems so much worse now I'm really and properly engaged to you - & weekends come all in one lump - so it seems a frightfully unbalanced existence!

I love you so very much - and Tuesday evening was magnificent.  Thank you ever so much for taking me.  Have you heard how your mother is?

Mummy wants to know the cheapest return fare to Norway for Ken's wedding Aug 6th.  Can you find out? - & I think they said you went to Oslo.  We say J. Eastman's baby yesterday - He's lovely now - frightfully big & brown with lovely blue eyes.

- I must stop because I've got a frightful lot to do - Patricia says I don'[t plan my life well enough (because I said I hadn't time to play tennis with her this evening!) - but I'm afraid she's quite right.

- All my love, my very dearest dear, I long terribly for Saturday - could we lunch together at 2 1.45, or is that too early? I suppose you don't want to look round any rooms now - do you?

Yours always

Mary P  xxx

P.S. I hope the social goes off well tomorrow - remember my better points when you gaze upon your communist women!