_New York,
May._
The last days on the trip you speak little to me.
Yes I have played tricks and upset canoe but my love for you, that is
excuse. Why do you refuse to see me? I can to you easily explain the
pictures and the name Kosloff. If you intended to--what you call
it?--throw me down, why have you and your Aunt so encourage me? I ask
you that. Again I shall come to your door and you will grant me yet
one conversation. Bah! I am not a fool!
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