You are to come home. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established. F. ‘Hilary was right. Ann Veronica jumped up to get her the cardtable. Her hair is like, white blonde, but trust me, it’s not her natural color. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “See that man?” Sebastian would tap her on the shoulder on a crowded alleyway and say, “See how he lingers too long when he touches that little child? The glow in his eyes? That is lustful intent, my dear. Last week. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert.
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