October 31, 1911 (Frank to Laura)
to: Laura Dawson
Sunshine Resorts
Havana, Cuba
From: Frank Thomas
Room 816, The Wistoria
New York, NY
My Darling,
I find myself forced to break two promises - promises that I had intended to keep - and I'm feeling aweful about it.
The first breach of my word is, of course, this letter. Believe me, I'm loathe to disturb your vacation. I hadn't intended to write a word to you until I had finished with this whole damn thing and thrown in the social club towel and all (and I swear tha day will coe as soon as I can make it, my darling - I hope the appearance of this letter did not get your hopes up). But I am desperate. I need your help.
Which brings me to my second breach of promise: A certain night on a steamliner to New York - a night that I swore never to bring up again - you told me many things. But I won't pain you by bringing up any but the pertinant one: you told me that you had certain information that, if shared with the right parties, would mean the destruction of the woman parading herself around as Madame 4.
My Dear, I need that information. It may be a matter of life and death.
Think of how I helped smooth over that unfortunate incident with the letter to Wilkinson's girl. Think of how I helped arrange your graceful exit from our social club. Think of my hand on the small of your back as we leaned against the railing and watched the moon reflected in the immeasurable sea. I know you cannot fail me in my time of need.
Please, send word by Tuesday (it must be by Tuesday) and I swear you shan't hear from me agin until I hae organized my own graceful exit.
In anticipation of that glorious day,
Frank
ps. I won't send you kisses, or chocolate or roses. You get enough of those from your adoring fans. Instead I send you a shoulder to rest your head on, a shot of brandy (which you might need after reading this) and a humble appology for my broken promises.
Sunshine Resorts
Havana, Cuba
From: Frank Thomas
Room 816, The Wistoria
New York, NY
My Darling,
I find myself forced to break two promises - promises that I had intended to keep - and I'm feeling aweful about it.
The first breach of my word is, of course, this letter. Believe me, I'm loathe to disturb your vacation. I hadn't intended to write a word to you until I had finished with this whole damn thing and thrown in the social club towel and all (and I swear tha day will coe as soon as I can make it, my darling - I hope the appearance of this letter did not get your hopes up). But I am desperate. I need your help.
Which brings me to my second breach of promise: A certain night on a steamliner to New York - a night that I swore never to bring up again - you told me many things. But I won't pain you by bringing up any but the pertinant one: you told me that you had certain information that, if shared with the right parties, would mean the destruction of the woman parading herself around as Madame 4.
My Dear, I need that information. It may be a matter of life and death.
Think of how I helped smooth over that unfortunate incident with the letter to Wilkinson's girl. Think of how I helped arrange your graceful exit from our social club. Think of my hand on the small of your back as we leaned against the railing and watched the moon reflected in the immeasurable sea. I know you cannot fail me in my time of need.
Please, send word by Tuesday (it must be by Tuesday) and I swear you shan't hear from me agin until I hae organized my own graceful exit.
In anticipation of that glorious day,
Frank
ps. I won't send you kisses, or chocolate or roses. You get enough of those from your adoring fans. Instead I send you a shoulder to rest your head on, a shot of brandy (which you might need after reading this) and a humble appology for my broken promises.
posted by BeckyF | 11:27 PM
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