569 Yonge St., Toronto, Ontario

Dearest Bill:

Your flowers came the other day, and gee they were beautiful. I'm just crazy about them, but you didn't have to send flowers to make me remember you. I haven't stopped thinking about you for one minute.

I received a letter from Jessie yesterday. She doesn't like Winnipeg at all anymore. She wants to come back to Toronto.

I got your telegram yesterday, and I'm glad everything's okay, and that you landed all right. Your father was secretly glad to hear from you too. Every day he asks me if I've heard from "The Sgt"?

I didn't go to work today because I was sick all last night. I think I may be getting the flu. There's a lot of it going around in Toronto, and, of course I didn't catch it, it wouldn't be natural.

I still have the orchid you gave me that night at the Royal York. I pressed it in a book, and I going to press a rose with it. Remember, huh?

So long for now. Write soon.

Love, Hilda