I think of him more frequently than I intend or wish that I did, but I feel my ninth life is now permanently extinguished concerning him.

I thought I detected in your letter, Linda dear, a hint of fear that he might come back to me and that I might welcome him.

If you have any such feeling in your heart, abandon it, child, because, while I try not to talk about myself, I do want to say that I rejoice in a family inheritance of legitimate pride.
I couldn't give the finest loyalty and comradeship I had to give to a man, have it returned disdainfully, and then furbish up the pieces and present it over again.

If I can patch those same pieces and so polish and refine them that I can make them, in the old phrase, "as good as new," possibly in time--but, Linda, one thing is certain as the hills of morning.

Never in my life will any man make any headway with me again with vague suggestions and innuendoes and hints.