In this letter, Dart encloses a copy of the report he did on “Men. Women, and God” for his psychology class. With the other books he’s hoping to report on, his desk looks like a branch pf the Cleveland Public Library.

He sets about trying to answer some of Dot’s letters. She wrote that her mother reported that milk at Sunapee is 28 cents per quart, if you can find it. He thinks that sounds like huge inflation, but he still thinks he’ll develop a fondness for the place, once he’s been there.  (I can attest to the fact that Dart fell head over heels in love with this little New England paradise and, like his love for Dot and trains, it never wavered throughout his life.)

He likes the idea of using their penny collection to pay for his parents’ trip to the wedding. He knows they have a lot of pride, so it would have to be handled diplomatically, which means he’ll have to brush up on his diplomacy skills before next summer.

Then he begins a rather forceful discussion about whether or not he and Dot will have much adjusting to do after they’re married. “In spite of some of my warnings that we may have to do some adjusting, hadn’t you ever thought of that? Golly, Dot! Even though we are expecting so little in the way of necessary adjustments, we should always, both of us, be prepared to make adjustments and settlements of our problems as soon as we recognize them. For the longer they remain, the more firmly they are driven and the harder they will be to remove. That includes all things from who uses the bathroom first, to who sleeps on which side of the bed, to the more delicate points of approach and methods in our sexual relations. We must be alert to see where we may be treading on each other’s toes, and our desire to help each other in our adjustments.” He points out that their lives and habits can’t all be perfectly integrated from the start.

Here, he digresses into a somewhat clumsy analogy of a fine machine. When it is properly broken in with gentle, slow use, it will give years of faithful service. But if the break-in period is rough – too fast, too soon – it will create serious problems down the road.

His mother says that if she’s trying to fool anyone about her eagerness to iron his shirts, the only person she’s fooling is herself.

Well, the psych test results are in and he scored an A. Unfortunately, it was by a smaller margin than the last time, so he’s disappointed with himself.

He must really hate Danny Kaye! Again, he writes about how much he dislikes his movies, calling him a “strychnine sandwich” with the kind of humor Dart is allergic to. Wow! I’m so glad my folks never voiced their disdain for this performer while I was growing up, because I actually found him quite charming.

Now he opens another little can of worms by wondering to Dot whether her love for him might not be just a little maternal, in addition to dependent and desiring. He asserts that all of those together make for a balanced relationship. He, too, feels a love for her that is “a desire for your body, soul, and companionship, paternal feelings, and dependency.” I’m starting to think this guy’s had just about enough psychology classes for now.

In a perfectly charming paragraph, he enumerates what he misses about her: her kisses and caresses, her voice, her hands, her happy whistling, her fresh sweetness. He also begs her not to let anyone else but her wake him up the morning they leave for Sunapee. “I’m looking forward to that all out of proportion to things.”

“They warn us that marriage changes no one. However, I persist in looking at our marriage as the time when my energies will be directed toward a useful and sociable outlet. That’s no change, I guess, for I’m completely dedicated to you, and have been since I first knew I loved you and you loved me, both of us enough to exclude all others.”

“Good night, my Darling. If I wrote all that I’m thinking this paper would burn. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m yours forever, with a vast reserve of inexpressible emotion.”