You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine.
Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach.
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