6 January 1941 – Queens, New York

Dearest Marion,

This letter may seem a little strange to you and then again it might not.  I’m writing this to beg forgiveness for the way I have been acting the last few days.  No one is to blame but myself.  I’ve been a crazy fool. I don’t [know] what got into me.  It just happened.  I hope you understand and forgive me.  I really can’t write or say what inside of me.  Please understand that it isn’t htat I[‘m] tiring of you because everyday you grow stronger in me.  Try to understand.  I’ll try my hardest to treat you like a lady and a dear friend should be treated.  I love you.

Love, Larry

P.S. I think you’ll understand this.