Dart is getting restless. He’s bored with his days of nothingness, seasoned occasionally by his blissful times with Dot.

Today he went to Cleveland College and he’s scheduled to take their general entrance exam tomorrow afternoon. Aside from the timing interfering with his trip to Kent, he’s not too worried. Neither is he too excited. Cleveland College is not the type of education he’d been hoping for, but the degrees are awarded by Western Reserve University, so it’s nearly the same. A look at the summer catalog reveals few classes for him to take, but he’d be happy to get in, none the less.

He loved Dot’s Friday night letter when she talked about the secure and peaceful feeling she gets when his arms are around her and her head is resting on his chest. He feels the same peaceful, benevolent feeling and finds himself shuddering at the thought of what he’d ever do if he lost her. He reminisces a bit about the two of them intertwined on the narrow davenport in his parents’ living room while they take a Sunday afternoon nap. Oh, how he wishes they could both just go upstairs at those times and share a bed!

How he’d love to relive some of those dreamy late night hours on the davenport; “the things we’ve talked about, the ways we’ve kissed, the things we’ve confessed and learned about each other… Every new way we’ve found of expressing our love, Darling, has been so much nicer than I’d dreamed of when we hadn’t found it yet. If you only knew how glad I am that we are discovering those ways together.”

Today he thought of something, realizing he used to be self-centered, possessive, even stingy with his belongings. “Since we have fallen in love, that feeling of getting and saving possessions for my own exclusive use has diminished. I thought of buying a typewriter and realized I was thinking of our typewriter. That’s the way it is with everything: our furniture, our home, our radio, our car, our life, our marriage, our happiness. … Not only tangible things, but the intangibles:  time, work, play, pleasure, worry, good and bad fortune. “I want to share them all, and with you only, of all the people yet born into this world.”

#          #          #

Dot announces that eight months ago today, at 5:17 PM, Dart gave her the most beautiful engagement ring in the world as they stood in Bruce Park in Greenwich. She thought she was as happy as it was possible to be, but now that she’s known him eight months longer, she’s even happier than she was that day.

She’d love to see his Uncle Guy’s farm and have a picnic there. What about on Decoration Day? (Is that what we would call Memorial Day?) Maybe his folks could join them, except she hates the thought of them seeing her in dungarees.

Referring to his more recent letter, she thinks the best man at the wedding will be Dart himself. Still, if he’d like to have a good man, how about Burke, Al or Homer? Dot has promised every girlfriend she’s ever had that they would be a bridesmaid in her wedding. Now she’ll have to pick a few fights to trim that number down a bit.  It’s fun to be discussing details of that longed-for day.

Speaking of fights, Phyll was fired from Robin Hood yesterday. Mrs. Grabbenstedder told her she should be less chummy with the guests, and Phyll, knowing she was planning to quit in three weeks anyway, told Mrs. G. a thing or two. Dot also has a few ideas about how the place should be run, but she wouldn’t want to risk her job to say anything. Meanwhile, she has to serve a banquet for 91 people tomorrow night, so if he and Homer end up coming to Kent, she may not even be able to see much of them.

Echoing Dart’s sentiments of late she writes, “Dart, I’ve never missed you as much as I have since that last weekend at your house. Most of me lives in Cleveland and it’s pretty hard trying to operate under such conditions. It surely takes a lot out of a person to love as strongly as I love you. I wouldn’t want it any other way, though, unless that other way meant we were married.”

She started this letter after ironing a mountain of clothes, so she’s exhausted and must get to bed. She vows to love him forever and ever.