Yvette to Henri.

Paris 13 September 1947

Good morning darling, good morning my love! Tell me when will you be in my arms, when? My impatience grows daily; I look for you each morning when I awake. And each morning I feel lost because you are not lying next to me. And my anguish and desire are renewed with each waking! I don’t want to be far from you any more. Not even for a day or two. I want to be near to you always. […] I am at the home of Marie Blanche. There is no one here and I hear your voice through Mozart and Chopin and Bach. And your voice covers theirs. […] I have cut my hair. Not too short. And I wonder if you will like it. I have slipped into a chic black dress and found at the top of a cupboard a little of hat of Marie Blanche that I like.  I looked at myself through the tiny veil of the little black hat, saying, “Henri, do you like me like this, as a little Parisienne?” Then I put the dress back on its hanger and the hat back in the cupboard. […] I walked along in front of the furniture shops thinking about our house. I saw some strong ceramic cups in blue/green that I liked a lot. Will you like them? I am so impatient to stroll along the streets with you and compare tastes.  I am sure that, without being exactly the same, they will be in perfect harmony. Like our souls; like our hearts. […] I have been out hunting every day. […] My friend Aline has been very kind to me and Pierre has promised me a place in a very good maternity hospital where he is the doctor. That’s also something difficult in Paris because of the formidable number of babies being born right now.  I would so much like to see your baby smile. You have a very special smile when you talk of it; a happy smile […] Have you received any news from Manka? What does she say? Goodnight my love. I am going to bed. I will dream of us and of you, after having thought of you all day. […]

Your Yvette.