The kids engage in a fun little exercise tonight; they’re sitting across the room from each other at the Peterson apartment, writing each other a letter that they other will get in the mail on Tuesday. Dart begins, “Gee — this seems funny. Sitting across the room from you and writing a letter to be read by you on Tuesday. Too bad I didn’t write this last night. Then you could have it tomorrow. Gee, you’re pretty with the yellow light on your hair. Of course, you’re pretty anyway, but I often see times like this when you’re even more pretty than at other times.”
He asks that she be sure to tell him about the dance. If he can’t come, or if she’s not allowed to leave on Friday night, he wants to know. “It would surely be nice if we could go to the dance, then come to Cleveland. That would mean that our last weekend (ouch) together would be one night and one evening longer. If I know us, we won’t stay until the dance is over. And it’ll take a lot longer to drive that distance back at night. I hope there’s gas by then.”
He proclaims great love for her, and complete dread about returning to that “awful place” without her, after all this wonderful time together. He’s resigned to the fact that his first few weeks back in Norfolk will be among the lonliest of his life.
Another cryptic paragraph follows about a disgusted look she just gave him when he mentioned that it was clouding up. I’m not sure what that’s about, but he says that he warned her once that he was a lazy guy. (Well, hardly!)
If it were night time, he would write a longer and more passionate letter, but, alas, it’s mid-afternoon and the mood escapes him. He signs off with his characteristic cartoon drawing of a Kilroy-type guy peering ofer a wall and the phrase, “Let’s go!”.
Dot begins by commenting that they must be crazy to be sitting 20 feet apart and writing to each other. “So we’re crazy. But as you have often said, ‘Ain’t it fun?'” Maybe they were just ahead of their time – foreshadowing the youth of today who text each other from a few feet away.
Although by the time Dart reads this, they’ll be 37.4 miles apart, at least they can look forward to next weekend together. Then, it’s Dot’s turn to be cryptic when she talks about him now knowing all about the little rabbit. “It really wasn’t worth all the fuss I made about it, but I told the truth when I said I didn’t have the equipment.” Now, who could make sense out of that?
These letters are almost incomprehensible to me. Now she’s writing that she knows it’s getting cloudy, so why doesn’t he just go upstairs and change into his blue suit in case the sun comes out again. What the heck?
She asks what he’s grinning about, but then tells him whatever it is, don’t stop. She loves the way he looks when he grins; it brings out the devil in his eye. Okay, that I understand!
Dot thanks Dart for taking her to see Fred Lavrey last night, saying it felt almost like a pre-war date.
And finally, she predicts that he is drawing one of his little cartoon men with the big nose at the bottom of his letter, and perhaps writing ‘Let’s go!’ underneath. As it turns out, he was. And so does she.
Later that night, she writes Dart a second letter from her room at Kent. All the girls in the house wanted the scoop on Dot’s weekend, so she give them an overview. The girls still don’t think her descriptions do Dart justice so she needs his advice on how to increase her vocabulary to be able to adequately describe how wonderful he is.
Looking at her upcoming week, she tells Dart she has a reception at the President’s house on Monday, an assembly on Tuesday, and classes begin on Wednesday. If Dart will call on Wednesday, the week will fly by until they can see each other again on Friday.
She suspects she’ll have difficulty keeping her mind on her studies until she gets used to it again. If she reminds herself that she is in college because she wants to live up to Dart’s expectations, she thinks it’ll help her keep her focus.
Her cold is feeling better after some Vicks and nose drops. From the way the wind is whistling through her windows, she thinks she’ll make good use of the blanket Dart’s mother gave her.
Her roommate Eleanor wants to go to bed now, so Dot must close this letter. She tells him to work hard on his trains and don’t forget to put their engagement announcement in the Cleveland paper. She signs, “All my love, all my life.”
