Mar 15, 1946
Dearest, My Love,
I received another letter from you today mailed March 16. Still you hadn't received any mail from me since Feb. 8. I have written and written letters to you, darling. I hope that old slow freight bring you a lot of them. It makes me sad to think of you way out there all by yourself, and you go days and days (and weeks and weeks) with no word from us.
Your mail is coming in better at the present. I hope yours improves too.
I think Wilson was lovely to loan you a radio. Now if I could just recite some poetry to you over it or tell you a nice sleepy bedtime story. Margaret has the nicest sleepy-time story book. I've tried to find one for you but the stores have sold out.
Uncle Gartrell took Elizabeth and me to lunch today at the Iris Garden, a coffee shop in the Atlanta Hotel. The proprietor is the Jap who wrote the Japanese letters to you for Uncle Gartrell. I took Gartrell one of the silk handkerchiefs you sent.
While I was up town, I looked at suits again to cover between my hat and shoes. I found a luscious one in melon. That is a shade of red that has some yellow in it and it is a nice soft pastel. My chartreuse green gloves and hat make me feel like an Easter egg because the colors blend as nicely as the colors on Easter eggs. Emily thinks it is just the thing. It is a woolen suit but I can wear it as often as I wore my yellow jacket.
How would you like to go to Bermuda, or wouldn't it be fun to go to a nice resort around Georgia -- say, Savannah.
I hope you can come home early, but I won't even get excited until I get your cablegram. Then I'll wait as patiently as possible until I can actually see you and feel you. Then I guess I'll just about eat you up.
Mother Ki has been very sick. She was in a coma Sunday with fever of 103. The doctor gave her a shot of penicillin -- enough for 24 hours. She snapped out of it and is all right now. She still has a little fever, but she is rational, takes nourishment and sleeps normally.
I mailed the insurance money for the car. I never have heard from them, but I sent it ahead anyway.
Darling, I love you little, I love you big, I love you like a little pig.
Frances
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Here is a letter that Monty wrote to Maj. Gillham which came under separate cover, postmarked March 25.
And here is a drawing Monty enclosed, showing a woman being pursued by a man. I imagine the woman is also dropping her handkerchief in the classic style.