Getting another fine letter from Dart today reminded Dot how much she’ll miss his regular mail when he leaves the port where he’s been for nearly a month.

We can see how tangled and ineffective communication between two people can get when there’s a long delay between when a writer sends a letter and when the intended reader actually reads it. Exhibit A:  1) Dot writes Dart to tell him she’s sent his folks Easter flowers in his name. She thinks it’s best that he not tell his parents the flowers were her idea because it would diminish their pleasure in having received them. 2), Dart, having not yet received Dot’s letter, tells his delighted parents that the flowers which so delighted them were actually the brain child of Dot and that he had nothing to do with them. He writes to tell Dot that he told his parents the truth.  3)  Not having received word from Dart about his confession, she underscores the need for secrecy about the flowers, but, alas, it’s too  late. The cat has left the bag.  You see how this could go one for quite a number of weeks. It’s a good thing they’re not discussing strategies for world peace, or possible cures for the common cold. As long as the confusion pertains to relatively trivial matters, the world is safe.

She remarks in this letter that she fears Dart is suffering from a tropical brain disease. He had suggested that if she wanted to help with his parent’s anniversary gift, she could write to Burke and ask him to tell her what Dart had offered as a gift idea. Practical Dot points out that it would have been just as easy for Dart himself to tell Dot what his suggestion was. Also, if his mother sees a letter in Dot’s writing addressed to her younger son, she might have questions, as well she should.

Now she feels like a slacker, once again putting off that long letter she’s promised. She’s had a headache for two days and believes sleep might help. She suspects the headache is a result of needing new glasses, but she must pay off one doctor before visiting another. “I feel I’m aging fast. You’ll no doubt come home to a toothless, gray-haired bag of bones and hank of hair. (Just to leave you with happy thoughts of the future.) And to think that a thing like me could ever know what it’s like to have a god-like man like you!”