...
It is night. The stars are bright overhead. Joergen Malthe, why have I
written all this to you?... What do I really want of you?...
* * * * *
No, no!... never in this world....
You shall never read this letter. Never, never! What need you know more
than that I love you? I love you! I love you!
I will write to you again, calmly, humbly, and tell you the simple
truth: I was afraid of the future, and of the time when you would cease
to love me. That is what I fled from.
I still fear the future, and the time when you will love me no more. But
all my powers of resistance are shattered by this one truth: _I love_.
For the first and only time in my life. Therefore I implore you to come
to me; but now, at once. Do not wait a week or a month. My lime trees
are fragrant with blossom. I want you, Joergen, now, while the limes
are flowering. Then, what you ask of me shall be done.
If you want me for a wife, I will follow you as the women of old
followed their lords and masters, in joyful submission.
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