8 October 1906
Monday night 12:30
Dear Heart,
I have been in bed for half an hour and I've suddenly taken a notion that I must write you a line before I go to sleep. My little treasure if you knew how I longed to have a little chat with you all the evening but it wasn't possible. I wonder if you felt I was neglecting you? It couldn't be helped. Perhaps you'll think I'm an ass to write to [you] so soon when I've nothing to say except that you're my only changling and I'm always thinking about you, and yearning to be with you even when I seem to be taking no notice of you at all.
Be good and faithful to your old Tramp and we'll have great times yet. I don't know why I am writing this. A thousand blessings on you.
J.M.S.
A little whiny? A little clingy? Sure. The rest of his letters are no better. But hey, you know what? I think it's endearing to know that he's got complicated, messy emotions, and that his relationship with Molly wasn't the picture of some romantic ideal. It makes him more human.
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