I left Paris the next day without having seen a single one of the
friends I had there. I inwardly rejoiced at not having bestowed one
look, one word, or a single step on any one but her. The rest of the
world no longer existed for me. Before I left, however, I put into the
post a note dated Paris, and addressed to Julie, which she would
receive on waking. The note only contained these words: "I have
followed you, I have watched over you though invisible. I would not
leave you without knowing that you were under the care of those who
love you. Last night, at midnight, when you opened the window, and
looked at the star, and sighed, I was there! You might have heard my
voice. When you read these lines I shall be far away!"