d line up beside your father and mine,
and I like him immensely. It is merely a case of not liking him
less, but of liking my unknown man more. I couldn't quite commit the
sacrilege, Linda dear, of sending you a sample of the letters I am
receiving, but they are too fanciful and charming for any words of mine
to describe adequately. I don't know who this man is, or what he has to
offer, or whether he intends to offer anything, but it is a ridiculous
fact, Linda, that I would rather sit with him in a chimney corner
of field boulders, on a pine floor, with a palm roof and an Ocotillo
candle, than to glow in the parchment-shielded electric light of the
halls of a rich man. In a recent letter, Linda, there was a reference
to a woman who wore "a diadem of crystallized light." It was a beautiful
thing and I could not help taking it personally. It was his way of
telling me that he knew me, and knew my tragedy; and, as I said before,
I am beginning to feel that I have him rather definitely located; and I
can understand the fine strain in him that prompted his anonymity, and
his reasons for it. Of course I am not sufficiently confident yet to
say anything definite, but my heart is beginning to say things that I
sincerely hope my lips never will be forced to deny.

Linda laid down the letter, folded her hands across it, and once more
looked at the stars.

"Good gracious!" she said. "I am tincturing those letters with too
much Peter. I'll have to tone down a bit. Next thing I know she will
be losing her chance with that wonderful Snow man for a dream. In my
efforts to comfort her I must have gone too far. It is all right
to write a gushy love letter and stuff it full of Peter's whimsical
nonsense, but, in the language of the poet, how am I going to 'deliver
the goods'? Of course that talk about Louise Whiting was all well
enough. Equally, of course, I outlined and planted the brook and
designed the bridge for Marian, whether she knows it or Peter knows it,
or not. If they don't know it, it's about time they were finding it out.
I think it's my job to visit Peter more frequently and see if I can't
invent some way to make him see the light. I will give Katy a hint in
the morning. Tomorrow evening I'll go up and have supper with him and
see if he has another article in the stewpan. I like this work with
Peter. I like having him make me dream dreams and see pictures. I like
the punch and the virility he puts into my drawings. It's al