e back. I should merely say: "He had to
go, he must submit to our love, and go his own way. That is how we love
each other."

A moment at the foot of a hill, a great moment, so welcoming, so stable,
and so peaceful that it is like an open doorway before which you must
commune with yourself before entering. Two years gone by. Before me the
rest of my life.

* * * * *

I have also had my doubts and fears. In the beginning I said to myself:
"Will life allow such a love? What will become of this ardor and
determination? And he, will he allow me to love him as my heart
dictates?"

We have gone through daily cares together, poverty, weariness, all the
formidable common things. We got many laughs and more strength out of
them. In the evening his step would sound on the dark landing; I would
run to the door to meet his smile; he would kiss me; the hours would
fly.... That is the way two years unrolled their seasons and brought
forth their fruits, and we became strict with each other because
perfection revealed her face to us from afar.

So, without a word said, by minutes added to minutes, by the divine
simplicity to which one approaches, you reach the promised land and the
very heart of love.

I say what I see. Life does allow all the ardor, all the sublimity of
two human beings to flourish; and in their relation to each other she
grants even the impossible. I say what he and I are.

* * * * *

With one accord we rise, we know it is time. Our child is waiting for
us, our house, our to-morrows, a thousand impatient desires, and all the
things you don't think of in advance.

We follow the line of the bank. Where to? I do not know, but I know it
is sweet, very sweet, and his arm is linked in mine.

Ahead of us are two banks set with houses and edged with reeds
sharp-edged and long as swords.

It gives you a sort of dizziness to follow the banks straight ahead
without removing your eyes. These two lines, separated forever and
mingled forever by the current, are fascinating.

A marvel. Is it not a marvel? An arch. Rising from the ground on either
side, its loving, solid curve clasps both banks and brings them together
in an embrace. Nevertheless they are like two convicts. Yet at one point
they become a single bank; they touch, they merge. Then they go on,
their bed widening out. In spite of appearances they are still closely
united in order to sustain th