Comfort Fund for Jewish Soldiers.

My very dear Yvette – this paper is sufficient proof of the state my spirits at the moment. I came to your meeting. I did everything to see you. I spent a painful day in Cairo. With my heart beating only for you and my head bursting with thoughts of you. Now here I am broken.

I drove by taxi in the evening to your hospital, from there again to that confounded club, but in vain—- I didn’t find you, cherie.

You did not understand my last letter.  But I understood yours. It  threw me into confusion.  The day I received it I walked like a “ennatique”.

Oh little adored one, how  bad I feel not to have taken your head in my hands today and told you all the love that I have for you.

Dear Yvette, my little one, I love you, I love you so much— where can I find all the words to tell you it? I want with all the power of my aching heart to have you for life  close by me.

Yvette, it is not a madman who talks to you, only a man who loves you to die of it.

Tell me, Yvette, tell me once more that you also will accept me as I am, with all my faults, my poverty, stupidity.

I feel sick, terribly sick, for those hours spent in Cairo. But I love you, there it is.

Do you want to be my wife, really, mine?

Henri.