I now feel that it was then on that evening of sweet dreams- that the
very first dawn of human love burst upon the icy night of my spirit.
Since that period I have never seen nor heard your name without a shiver
half of delight, half of anxiety.
You will walk differently alone, dear, through a thicker atmosphere, forcing your way through the shadows of chairs, through the dripping smoke of the funnels. You will feel your own reflection sliding along the eyes of those who look at you. You are no longer insulated; but I suppose you must touch life in order to spring from it.