August 27, 1945

Dot’s letter today is uncharacteristically intimate and passionate, while at the same time patient and mature. She has spent the evening hours since Dart left alternately wishing he were still with her and wishing time would hurry up so she could see him again in two weeks.

“Dart, words can’t express (nor will I ever be able to tell you) how glad I was to see you! At least give me credit for talking some when you whispered those ‘sweet nothings’ in my ear. I thought I loved you as much as anyone could love anyone else before you came here, but now I realize there is no ceiling on how much love one can have for someone. I love you more every time I think of you; every tme I looked at you, I wanted to throw my arms around you and kiss you again and again.”

“I hope there will be many opportunities for us to have talks like the one we had last night. They’re good for us, don’t you think? You’re a wonderful boy, Dart, and I, and allĀ others who know your high standards will always respect you for what you are. It’s not easy to remain as controlled as you did last night, I know, but I think you’ll agree that it’s better to wait until we’re married. To my way of thinking, the value of such pleasures is greatly decreased if they are indulged in before marriage. …Please don’t be angry with me for acting the way I did. I could not let you do something I thought wrong any more than you would do something you knew to be wrong. I love you, my Darling.”

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