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Chapter 10

           Howcouldshewriteaboutthatatall?Andhowcouldsuchawildideahaveenteredherhead?Andyet,thestrangestpartofthematterwas,thatwhilehereadtheletters,hehimselfalmostbelievedinthepossibility,andeveninthejustification,oftheideahehadthoughtsowild.Ofcourseitwasamaddream,anightmare,andyettherewassomethingcruellyrealaboutit.Forhourshewashauntedbywhathehadread.Severalpassagesreturnedagainandagaintohismind,andashebroodedoverthem,hefeltinclinedtosaytohimselfthathehadforeseenandknownallthatwaswrittenhere;itevenseemedtohimthathehadreadthewholeofthissometimeorother,long,longago;andallthathadtormentedandgrievedhimuptonowwastobefoundintheseold,longsinceread,letters.

           “Whenyouopenthisletter”(sothefirstbegan),“lookfirstatthesignature.Thesignaturewilltellyouall,sothatIneedexplainnothing,norattempttojustifymyself.WereIinanywayonafootingwithyou,youmightbeoffendedatmyaudacity;butwhoamI,andwhoareyou?Weareatsuchextremes,andIamsofarremovedfromyou,thatIcouldnotoffendyouifIwishedtodoso.”

           Fartheron,inanotherplace,shewrote:“Donotconsidermywordsasthesicklyecstasiesofadiseasedmind,butyouare,inmyopinion—perfection!Ihaveseenyou—Iseeyoueveryday.Idonotjudgeyou;IhavenotweighedyouinthescalesofReasonandfoundyouPerfection—itissimplyanarticleoffaith.ButImustconfessonesinagainstyou—Iloveyou.

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