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18. August 1942
What makes me feel miserable is the certitude that you are more unhappy there at home than I ever will be in the worst conditions – because I am in the middle of it, so I can react, while you are suffering for me and you can do nothing except think of me. [...]
You cannot imagine how sad I feel when I read certain things that you recount to me, like how you did not want to change your dress, etc. As for me, when I think of you, I see you in that blue dress which you had made not long ago, with that collar, pocket and belt, with a good haido, fresh, as you look when you pay a little attention to yourself, and I fear to find you different when I come back.