Wednesday.
I inclose you the letter, which you desired me to forward, and I am
tempted very laconically to wish you a good morning—not because I am
angry, or have nothing to say; but to keep down a wounded spirit.—I
shall make every effort to calm my mind—yet a strong conviction seems to
whirl round in the very centre of my brain, which, like the fiat of
fate, emphatically assures me, that grief has a firm hold of my heart.
God bless you!
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