I don’t know whether this is Wed or Thurs Nite.
Anyway it’s dark.
My Dear Sweetheart,
I have been so interested in my work that the past two days have gone by so quickly that I didn’t realize it. I did not intend to let yesterday get by without writing to you but it was so late Dear, that I went right to sleep. Maybe you think that I am a poor sweetheart, but I have been so interested in my work. You are the only one I have written to for quite a while. I should write several letters but it seems a loss of time to write to anyone except you. Last winter I did the same thing and my mother wrote to Mr. Bishopp to find out where I was. When you are with me Dear I’ll have to wish some of my letter writing onto you. There won’t be much of it, because I am getting to the point where I have very few to write.
I am glad that you are over your blues, Dear, and I hope you realize that it was just a play on your imagination. It is very difficult to get mail or to send letters from southern Florida. I just received yours of the 19th, which makes about 10 or 11 days.
I am doing quite a little staining and microscopic work just now and it takes an awful lot of time to get anything accomplished. The material is so small that it is quite different from what any of our men are doing. I have to try methods on fresh material to get a technique as it is just a little different. Dr. White has written about how he is working on the other stuff, but it doesn’t help me any. I haven’t told him anything about what I am working on here, for I wouldn’t gain anything to do it.
I love you Dear and I wish I could be near enough to tell you all about it. With a sweet goodnight.