Friday, 11PM
Dearest love:
I adore you, sweetheart. I'll be glad to be with you. I hope that everything has been going all right.
The rumor was right - the President is dead.
I've spent the day in meetings and conferences on powder [?] - and the evening too. I'll go to bed now. Tomorrow Gibson will drive me to Washington in his car, so I shant have to make the train trip. Oscar & Henry Eyring & Hammett, among others, are here.
I love you and the children.
Your
Paddy