To: St. Clare
From: Marie
Dear Auguste,
Things have been absolutely dreadful since you left your home on Earth. I have been so sick and miserable. With headaches, and sores of all kind. I have been selling the slaves that you have bought to take care of all of the expenses that women must take of when their husbands die. Cousin Ophelia has taken Topsy from us too New England. Apparently she is doing much better. As well as can be expected from the black little devil. She has learned to read. Dear Husband I have tried to avoid this news. But with all of the selling that I have had to do, I have sold Tom. I do not know who he ended up with. I know that you had meant to give him his freedom. But he was worth the most money, and who doesn't want more of that correct dearest? Well I must be going now, I have a splitting life since your death.
With all love a sick woman can muster,
Love Marie
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