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Conger Reynolds correspondence, April 1918
1918-04-09 Conger Reynolds to Daphne Reynolds Page 2
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is tasty for a change, but have no fear - I shall not come home wedded to it. This pipe is just a nice little old friend. It took a fancy to me in London in 1916 and decided to go over to America with me. I educated it for a year at the University and then we both went into the army. It used to keep me company evenings when you were entertaining Ginger, or some other, to me then, infernal nuisance. Honey, you'll never know how discouraging you were. No wonder I couldn't kiss you that night! Somehow I couldn't give you kisses unless you wanted them seriously. And you surely made it difficult for me to believe you did. If it had not been for your letters afterward - but the if's don't count now. Of course, everything was bound to work out the way it did, else it could not have been so perfectly perfect. Sometimes when I look back, I marvel at the way events took the sure road at every turning. There were numerous places where they might easily have strayed off, and the wonderful culmination would never have been reached. I fancy that in the way with all real romance. It is the unexplainable shaping of the events, as if by a force unseen , that makes it romance. The fairies were guiding over movements and our impulses. We can't understand how such good fortune attended every step, but it did - the good fairies saw to that. And even now that I'm an old married man the marvel of it remains so
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is tasty for a change, but have no fear - I shall not come home wedded to it. This pipe is just a nice little old friend. It took a fancy to me in London in 1916 and decided to go over to America with me. I educated it for a year at the University and then we both went into the army. It used to keep me company evenings when you were entertaining Ginger, or some other, to me then, infernal nuisance. Honey, you'll never know how discouraging you were. No wonder I couldn't kiss you that night! Somehow I couldn't give you kisses unless you wanted them seriously. And you surely made it difficult for me to believe you did. If it had not been for your letters afterward - but the if's don't count now. Of course, everything was bound to work out the way it did, else it could not have been so perfectly perfect. Sometimes when I look back, I marvel at the way events took the sure road at every turning. There were numerous places where they might easily have strayed off, and the wonderful culmination would never have been reached. I fancy that in the way with all real romance. It is the unexplainable shaping of the events, as if by a force unseen , that makes it romance. The fairies were guiding over movements and our impulses. We can't understand how such good fortune attended every step, but it did - the good fairies saw to that. And even now that I'm an old married man the marvel of it remains so
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