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STRAIT IS THE GATE 148

but I was afraid to own it to myself. What frightful reality you give to what is merely imaginary, and how you thicken it between us! “If you feel that you love me less . . . Ah! let me dismiss this cruel supposition, which your whole letter contradicts! But then, of what im portance are your fleeting apprehensions? Alissa! As soon as I begin to argue, my words freeze; I can only hear the weeping of my heart. I love you too much to be skilful, and the more I love you the less I know what to say to you.' Intellectual love! ' ... what am I to answer to that? When it is with my whole soul that I love you, how can I distinguish between my intellect and my heart? But since our correspondence is the cause of your unkind imputation, since we have been so grievously hurt by our fall into reality from the heights to which that correspondence had raised us, since, if you were to write to me now you would think that you were writing only to yourself, since, too, I have not strength to bear another letter like your last - please, for a time, let us stop all communication.”

In the rest of my letter I protested and appealed against her judgment, imploring her to grant us the opportunity of another interview. The last

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