Yvette to Henri.

Paris, 20 September

I have decided to stay quietly this morning, having been rather tired last night. This interminable running about is very wearisome and I don’t want to risk having worries about the baby.  It can’t be helped if I don’t find an apartment. I am philosophical about it and really it’s more important to have a fine baby than to find an apartment before you arrive. You agree darling? I’m sure that you think the same thing, don’t you my friend? It doesn’t mean that I stop searching, simple that I don’t overdo it!

This morning I received the copy of your equivalence from Nancy and I’ll send in on Monday to Sciences Po. Everything is in order there and your enrolment is as it should be.

On another matter, I saw a lawyer yesterday to ask him about our marriage. His advice was as I thought: to have our Cairo marriage registered as a consequence of the loss of my French nationality. It would be better for us to remarry. The necessary documents are: a birth certificate, and in the case of your first marriage (the fiction) would have been noted in the margin of your birth certificate, take care that your divorce is also noted there or if not bring a certificate of divorce. I advise you also to find a certificate of celibacy (if such a certificate can be delivered.)

I will get the necessary papers for myself, that is to get my divorce noted on my French papers.  I told you that I had received the 200 and that it was not enough. Is it possible to have another 100? Or if not can I count on you bringing it and borrow with the certainty of a rapid paying back, if needed?

There it is, darling; I believe that is all the business matters over.

Yesterday evening I received your second letter, which did me the world of good. It is calm and peaceful and I know that it mirrors your heart, my well beloved. You mustn’t be sad, darling. At the beginning of October – in a fortnight- you will arrive. [.love,joy,future happiness]

Yesterday I crossed the city by foot and without thinking about it went into Notre Dame. When I was in the transept a strange idea seized me: I felt that you were at the other side of the vault and were waiting for me. So clear was the thought that I quickly crossed the church. But all I found was a blinding sun which inundated the square and I smiled at my naïve impatience. I love you Henri, my good, dear, tender love. See you soon darling. Come quickly here to me! How I embrace and think of you!

Your Yvette.