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Calvert Beach Md. 6 Oct 1940

Dear Doris:
We are all spending the day here at the beach, - Dad, Dolores, Sophy, a little Peruvian girl, and I.  We have been swimming both before and after lunch Sophy and I. Dolores didn't venture till afterwards. She is standing now in the warm sunshine drying off before she dresses, while Sophy is getting on her clothes over in the little shanty by the big bathe-dining house which is locked up. It is a perfect day and so mild. We all miss you so much.

Now Doris, I am going to lecture you on not writing. All the week I've worried over you, -- not hearing a word of how you are, and after knowing you had such a cold. I suppose if you were deathly ill, the hospital would let me know, but that is poor consolation. I know you are busy and preoccupied, but I hope you haven't forgotten us so soon. In all the 30 odd years that I have been away from home, I have been busy, ill or pressed for time many many times, but have never neglected to send a letter home every other day. It is not an impossible chore, and has kept me in touch. When people don't write, the touch is lost, the intimate family group is gone. Dad says, "We still have each other." - feeling saddened by your neglect, and has clung to me. You know yourself how he hates to write, but he always does and always did to his people.