I expected this, darling. To tell you the truth soon after I sent you that horrible and cruel letter. I regretted it with all my heart and since that day, my heart was only anxious about one thing, was only impatient for one thing, to gain your pardon.

<<translation incomplete>>

From now on, when the mud reaches my knees, I will quickly lie down on the green grass and so keep my heart “pure” for after the war. That’s a promise, darling.

Three weeks with no letters. I can think of nothing else but this silence. And though I know that there’s no reason to be anxious, the feeling is stronger than I am, that’s the way it is.

Don’t forget that I am a dialectical materialist and an active member of a movement that basically is the reply, the only reply to all these complex problems.

In rare moments, I am perfectly happy. And why not? I have the right to be. I have you and I am conscious that in the moments of mortal danger to all humanity I did all that I could, given the circumstances, to help defeat that danger. It is humanity that is the victor of this war.