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Good hotel, good food and wonderful milk; from cows not from the grocer's! I hope to pick up a few pounds. All food has been hateful to me since July 24th5, but here I get really hungry and want my dinner.
I haven't heard from your father6 for many
weeks. Sometimes I worry and am afraid he may be ill. Meta7 has never written me since I have
an a "post-operative." I wish she would.
Yesterday I walked half a mile in the lovely autumn sunshine and was very much
I am registered here as
Winifred Carter (CARTER)
Hor Horrid name, but all feminine names beginning with W are horrid. In a college town I
can't very well use my own name—this is an all-year–open in and a dozen of the Professors live here. This hotel sits right in the
campus. The students are just back. One nice senior caught me studying the stained
glass in the chapel8. He asked if I were
not I in such a nice way that I admitted it. He promised not to give me away, and
I'm really sure he won't.
Please let Winifred Carter know how you are, dear. I have no Miss Bloom9 here, and I shan't write letters until I
above above one hundred and ten
pounds—ridiculous weight for me!