Never
in my life will any man make any headway with me again with vague
suggestions and innuendoes and hints. If ever any man wants to
be anything in my life, he will speak plainly and say what he
wants and thinks and hopes and intends and feels in not more than
two-syllable English. I learned my lesson about the futility of
building your house of dreams on a foundation of sand. Next time
I erect a dream house, it is going to have a proper foundation of
solid granite. And that may seem a queer thing for me to say
when you know that I am getting the joy in my life, that I do not
hesitate to admit I am, from letters written by a man whose name
I don't know. It may be that I don't know the man, but I
certainly am very well acquainted with him, and in some way he
seems to me to be taking on more definite form. I should not be
surprised if I were to recognize him the first time I met him
face to face.
Linda looked through the skylight and cried out to the stars:
"Good heavens! Have I copied Peter too closely?"
She sat thinking a minute and then she decided she had not.
And in this connection you will want to know how I am progressing
in my friendship with the junior partner, and what kind of
motorist I am making. I am still driving twice a week, and
lately on Sundays in a larger car, taking Dana and a newspaper
friend of hers along. I think I have driven every hazard that
this part of California affords except the mountains; Mr.
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