To day I have been at work all day and to night we all are
going up to *Carries. I think I can turn back to my last spring writings now but
I cannot with as free a conscience as I did then. December will tell if it is
not changed, still again will I wound where I would give but pleasure. Yet I
believe in spite of my faults I have many friends. May I always have as many. But
I am doing very wrong by giving **M- every reason to think I care a great deal
for him, when I do not care anything. I fear we shall not part friends.
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