Come to me! I will not understand a word you have written till you come.
Who has been using your hand to strike me like this, and why do you lend
it? Oh, if it is she, you do not owe her _that_ duty! Never write such
things:--speak! have you ever found me not listen to you, or hard to
convince? Dearest, dearest!--take what I mean: I cannot write over this
gulf. Come to me,--I will believe anything you can _say_, but I can
believe nothing of this written. I must see you and hear what it is you
mean. Dear heart, I am blind till I set eyes on you again! Beloved, I have
nothing, nothing in me but love for you: except for that I am empty!
Believe me and give me time; I will not be unworthy of the joy of holding
you. I am nothing if not _yours_! Tell this to whoever is deceiving you.
Oh, my dearest, why did you stay away from me to write so? Come and put an
end to a thing which means nothing to either of us. You love me: how can
it have a meaning?
Can you not hear my heart crying?--I love nobody but you--do not know
what love is without you! How can I be more yours than I am? Tell me, and
I will be!
Here are kisses. Do not believe yourself till you have seen me. Oh, the
pain of having to _write_, of not having your arms round me in my misery!
I kiss your dear blind eyes with all my heart.--My Love's most loved and
loving.