Tonight the mood is on me to tell it to you recklessly and lavishly , never pausing to stint or weigh words . Sweetheart , I love you -- love you -- love you -- dear true , faithful woman soul , I love you with all the heart of a man . Ever since I first saw you I have loved you . I can never come to tell you so in spoken words ; I can only love you from afar and tell my love under the guise of impersonal friendship . It matters not to you , but it matters more than all else in life to me . I am glad that I love you , dear -- glad , glad , glad . There was much more , for it was a long letter . When I had read it I buried my burning face in my hands , trembling with happiness . This strange confession of love meant so much to me ; my heart leaped forth to meet it with answering love . What mattered it that we could never meet -- that I could not even guess who my lover was ? Somewhere in the world was a love that was mine alone and mine wholly and mine forever . What mattered his name or his station , or the mysterious barrier between us ? Spirit leaped to spirit unhindered over the fettering bounds of matter and time . I loved and was beloved . Nothing else mattered . I wrote my answer to his letter . I wrote it fearlessly and unstintedly . Perhaps I could not have written so freely if the letter were to have been read by him ; as it was , I poured out the riches of my love as fully as he had done . I kept nothing back , and across the gulf between us I vowed a faithful and enduring love in response to his . The next day I went to town on business with my lawyers .
Neither of the members of the firm was XXXXX when I called , but I was an old client , and one of the clerks showed me into the private office to wait .
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