February 26th, 1925

Dear Betty,

Sometimes I wonder if I should have been born in Europe. The air, the people, the buildings... it all feels so wonderfully like I belong here. I knew that my love of travel would once again infect me given time and the right places, and so it has.

It started after that dreadful discussion in Barcelona. Needing to clear my head, while the others went on a whirlwind tour of the city, I wandered down to the Cathedral, where Searle and I had stood upon the altar, holding hands, and spoke our vows quietly to each other once again. I could feel him in that place, like he was reaching out to me from beyond the grave and reminding me once again that he means those words, now and forever.

From then on, it has been as if he were here. I can see him laughing through the streets as we walk, and almost feel his arm in mine as we meander the alleyways. I've endeavored to steer my compatriots to all our favorite sights, which they are happy to let me do as none have been in these towns to see the sights before. (I believe Louis came through Marseille when he joined the Foreign Legion, but no doubt the soldier life provided very little in the way of free time to enjoy the wonders of humanity)

Marseilles is lovely as always. Visiting ports is such a delightful way of visiting cities. While I cannot introduce my companions to all the beauties each city has in store, I can find the highlights, the good cafes and provide them with the genuine experience of the place. If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend it.

Wistfully yours,

Rose