[Marked 23 by Amirah, but located in the sequence of translation at 22.]

Dvr H Adler
PAL/30765
650,G.T.Coy
RASC
MEF

December 1942

Friday, that is exactly a week since I came to you in Cairo. Since then – 8 days! – not a word from you.  And yet, Yvette, you promised me to write as soon as you returned to work. In the meantime I have already written one letter, and this is the second. In a word, darling, I am dreadfully worried. You know very well how sensitive I am when it comes to you, darling. Above all because you have spoilt me so deliciously that I am used to hearing from you every three days.

I came back to Cairo with a divine peace in my soul, which lasted exactly the three days necessary to receive your letter which I waited for so impatiently. But the end of my peaceful soul came on the third day when I returned, empty handed from my platoon office.

Oh darling, why do you leave me without news of you? Did I do something stupid during my recent stay in Cairo that wounded you? I can’t see what it could have been. Was it that tiring walk? Those three hours in the café where I uncovered to you a little of my past? But my God! – there is more.  There is more to tell you, perhaps uglier and still more painful. What will happen then, dearest little Yvette, what then?

But I can still see your loving look that so enriched me there in the tramway that brought you to me. And that look penetrated deep within me, bringing peace, happiness and light. It remains within me still. And that’s why I don’t believe those supposition I made earlier on/ There must be some other reason for your terrible silence. Is it serious? Are you ill, darling? But then is it so serious that you could not write a one little word” I am ill. I can’t write much but I am thinking of you, Henry”.  Yvette, treasured little wife, tell me what is it? Because you know that I love you tant que vivre, I can only really live in relation to you darling. I think intensely of our coming holidays of that lovely tender season which will envelop us, cradle us and fill us with a violent and peaceful joy, harbinger of our future life of our life of love until the end of our days. Yvette, Yvette, Yvette darling, does the music of our Concerto still live within you? Does it accompany so sweetly your feelings and your thoughts as the leit-motif of our love? I embrace you as strongly as I love you darling,

Your Henri