u think--what will you say to me when I see you in your still garden
of miracles? I've got to know. If you meant it--you said I was the
centre of your world--it can't be true that you meant that. I the
centre of your great, clean, wind-swept world of hill-tops and of
visions? I, who haven't got the decent strength to hold my tongue, and
keep my hands. But you did say that--you did! When I come, will you
say it to me again, out loud, that? I can't imagine it--such a thing
couldn't happen to me. But if you shouldn't--if you should tell me not
to come--no, I can't face that. Where is the solution? I see
perfectly that you can't care--why should you?--I see also that you
must be made to. That's just it. I know what I must have and that I
can never have it. No, that isn't so. I know that I shall come and
take you away from what you fear and hate, out of the world we both
know is not real, into reality. I shall tell you why I want you, why
you must come. You will listen and you will answer. You will say why
it's madness and insanity. I shall have to hear all your obvious
reasons, but I shall know that you know they are lies--Do you think--do
you dream, that they can stand between me and you? You can't stop me.
Because I have seen your soul--you said so--you've held it out, in your
two hands, for me to look at. You can't keep me away from you. I know
how you'll fight against it. You won't win--don't count on it.

This isn't insolence--it's the thing that's got me. I can't help it.
A man is that way. I don't half know what I've said; I don't dare read
it. You have got to make it out yourself, somehow.

You've asked me questions. You're troubled, frightened--I know,
it's--hell. Do you think I can sit here any longer and let you go
through that alone? I've been over the whole thing--I've done nothing
else, and out of the maze of it all I'm forced to come to this. It's
the old way and the only one--the answer to it all. What can you do
with your life--your life that is going to be, that is now, all
glorious with loveliness and light? Give it away--that's it--give it
to me, and then we two will set it to music and send it singing through
the world. The old way. You to come home to when the day is
done--your face, your hands, your eyes----

You'll have to overlook this. It's mad to go on. It's mad anyway. If
you knew how I've lied to myself, how I've struggled and fought and
twisted to keep this