Love's Pilgrimage by Upton Sinclair
page 121 of 680 (17%)
page 121 of 680 (17%)
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I had an _iron grip_ at my heart just now, as I was trying to study.
I had a foreboding of something--and then I came home and found your letter telling me I was yours, and I _must._ At last I may go to you the way I wish! My love, my love, I do not care what you are, or what you do to me, as long as I may go with you. How I laugh at myself as I say it! You have mastered me to worship your _life_--not you. I shall not work for your love, I shall work to live. Our love will be one of the incidents of our life. Meanwhile, I may go with you, that is all that I say--I sing it. I may go with you, not to happiness, but to necessity! And now that cursed German! It hangs over my head like a sword of Damocles I have heard of--though I don't know why it was held over his head! You think our love was settling into the cooing state! Dear me, Thyrsis, I hope I will not always have to yell to you over a foggy ocean! XX DEAR THYRSIS: Can you imagine what it must be to be shut up in a little room on a rainy night, with the children and people screaming under your window? That is my position now. I find myself hard to manage at times. I want to become discouraged or melancholy or disgusted, but I drive myself better than I used |
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