27 August 1941 – Queens, New York
I want to ask you a very serious question. The circumstances of our companionship lately should help you answer this question. Well in the “King’s English”, the question is: will you marry me, for better or worse (probably worse) until death do us part. Presuming your answer is yes I think a very convenient and easy to remember day for our wedding would be your birthday. I could assassinate two winged creatures with one missile by giving you your wedding ring for birthday in conjunction with your wedding. Then again you may want to be a June bride, so, we could get hitched on my birthday. Then you could save yourself by giving me all the wedding bills as a birthday present. Of course, I’m under the impression that all the above could not take place unless I was earning eighty-five dollars per week. But then again if you could live on twelve a week, why wait?
Incidentally, if Ethel is around tell her she can consider herself proposed to if you refuse. (Here’s hoping you don’t refuse.)
But all kidding aside I really like you a great deal. I hope I will for a long time.
Play it your way [with an arrow pointing to “like” in the above sentence].
Well now that you and your nosey sitser have read this letter I think I close.
Love & Kisses
P.S. Please excuse the writing. I write bad enough as it is but this pen is new and makes my bad writing worse. LR