July 1st, 1888
Edric,
Oh Love, if only you could see the look I'm giving that letter right now. I know you mean well, so I'm going to let it slide. I doubt this will all be so intense when the fog is finally gone and you're not wandering off into the abyss.
Not to mention, at some point, you'll be coming home to me every day, so I won't have to worry. Mrs. H is also a mean chef in addition to baking, you best be prepared, if you can win her over, that is.
Love,
Febs
Febs
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