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Conger Reynolds correspondence, August 1918
1918-08-19 Daphne Reynolds to Conger Reynolds Page 4
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Aw now, how couldja? And I was so perfectly furiously sure that they were regular hope-to-dies -- every one of them. Your criticism, my own, won't do a bit of harm, but I'm afraid it won't do a bit of good, because I told you long, long ago what a hopeless nut you'd married. That's wot comes of marrying a literary person. I shouldn't of did it, I spuz, but you know our marriage was -- oh well, I'll spare you that much, tho' you didn't spare me when we met Mr. Frierson. You blooming little blighter.
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Aw now, how couldja? And I was so perfectly furiously sure that they were regular hope-to-dies -- every one of them. Your criticism, my own, won't do a bit of harm, but I'm afraid it won't do a bit of good, because I told you long, long ago what a hopeless nut you'd married. That's wot comes of marrying a literary person. I shouldn't of did it, I spuz, but you know our marriage was -- oh well, I'll spare you that much, tho' you didn't spare me when we met Mr. Frierson. You blooming little blighter.
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