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I am so sorry I missed you this afternoon. I spent the afternoon having all parts of my head x-rayed in a laboratory up-town2. I have a temperature every afternoon and wild pains in my head, and these fool doctors can't find what the infection is4. My Antrium[?] under x-ray is all right; teeth blameless; tonsils reply "perfect, thank you!" to every test, and my inner ear is innocent of any disorder. In spite of all this my head feels like the devil and I have fever. So I go taxi-cabbing around to laboratories.
I telephoned you at noon and at three oclock on Thursday to ask if I could come out to tea with me somewhere, but you were out. So I went up town and had tea at the Plaza, utterly weary of these four walls. I was feeling shaky, but couldn't bear being shut up. Knew I couldn't go out at night, but thought I might see you in the afternoon.
This note was to thank you for the flowers; I'll have them to cheer me tomorrow when those chilly doctors are here pumping and pulling at me. Thank you dear Zoe, a thousand times, what heavenly English stock!
Perhaps you can drop in Monday afternoon for tea—or, if its any sort of weather I could come up to you. It's damnable to be sick and not to know what's the matter. Tomorrow, Sunday, afternoon, I'll be engaged, for two doctors will be here doing stunts on me.
Au Revoir—and here's to better days!
Yours W. S. C.