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158 how far short had been that feeling of what now controlled me. He had fascinated me with a song, had brought upon me the pain of past memories. What knew I then of this complete immolation of body and soul? That emotion had been but the outcome of a strong sympathy, a deep-rooted faith in love I had thought to be genuine, but when it had been unable to stand the test, the faith that had gone with it, and which I had mistaken for love, had died out. Now even though the feeling I had for this man brought me no happiness, nay worse, carried me to the every verge of despair itself, yet I had no desire to get away from it, it became on the contrary more firmly rooted in my being with every fleeting moment.

My daily duties became a thing apart from my life. People came and spoke of affairs, I spoke with them, but it all seemed like something far away, something in which I was no longer concerned. I endeavoured to forget him, but every endeavour brought nearer to me the consciousness of my great love. My being became composed of it, and whatever came into my life became converted into it. The very breezes whispered of a love that was