Then we would read to each, other what we had written.
Do you remember how guardedly we read and how stealthy we were so
as not to arouse suspicion or attract attention to our lair? I
shall never forget those happy hours. Every line I wrote and read
to you, Alix dear, was of you and FOR you. You were my heroine.
My hero, feeble creature, told you how much I loved you, and you
never suspected.
I am telling you all this now, when my hope is dead, so that you
may know that my love for you began when you were little more than a
baby, and has endured to this day and will endure forever. I pray
God you may always be happy. And now, in closing, I can only add
the trite sentence,--which I recall reading in more than one novel
and which I was imitative enough to put into my own unfinished
masterpiece: If ever you are in trouble and despair and need me, I
will come to you from the ends of the earth. I mean it, Alix. With
all the best wishes in the world, I am and will remain
Yours devotedly,
DAVID.
P.S.--I have just looked up from this letter to catch sight of
myself in a mirror across the office. I have to smile. That beastly
but honourable glass reveals the true secret of my failure to
captivate you. How could any self-respecting heroine fall in love
with a chap with a nose like mine, and a mouth that was intended
for old Goliath himself, and cheek bones that were handed down
by Tecumseh, and eyes that squint a little--but I daresay that's
because they are somewhat blurred at this particular instant.
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