How I have missed you today – yes terribly. I have been whispering prayers to you all day and dreaming of you, and sighing those deep sighs of complete boredom. Work is not so good is it, after days of complete happiness together. I have had the echo of the sea in my ears all day – dashing against those rocks and the roaring torrents in the caves. the sea seems so utterly powerful quite beyond the power of man. It's very deceptive because, who would think that looking down on Swansea from the top of Mount Pleasant, the sea, which is so calm looking, is really beyond all human control and from day to day, performs its arduous task.
All day my dreams have been 200 miles away with you and next week when you leave, that town will no longer be alive, but just a memory. Perhaps to be remembered in a few years time.
To come back to earth and all one's material needs. Horace has been admired and may perhaps be sold by the time you come home. Bur we must not raise our hopes. Bob came round yesterday with a very nice man who wants a small car and Bob got on so well with him that he is anxiously hoping that he will decide to buy it possibly round about the £40 mark. This man had to go and see another car today so will let Bob know tomorrow morning so if I hear anything before posting this letter I will let you know. Your father & mother came down yesterday having borrowed Mr Smethers accumulator for us. Of course they wanted to know how we had enjoyed ourselves and how you were. I said you sent your love to them, which I expect you would have done had you thought. You mother was certainly glad to think her son had not forgotten. We were both downcast when we parted weren't we?
I am enclosing Mr Cordial's tract for you to scrutinise. I have not read it properly myself, so please do not lose it.
You will not forget the poem will you, now that you are free and the weather perhaps is inspiring.
I have not heard from Bob today yet, so cannot give you any news of the car..
I never write so well at the office as I'm afraid I have a conscience.
So please excuse me writing more,
All my love,
Margaret.
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