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 happy, so that I can always remember that I have been perfectly happy—once.

But you always are. . ..

There, you see, you think so! There are months and years when I am alone, when nobody sees me. Then I am struggling. I make a great deal of sport about work and, indeed, I won't work at anything that doesn't interest me, but you know, you must know by now, how much I want to write. It is coming so slowly. It is getting late. . . late. I must go away to think. I'm too happy here and I am losing time. He was very earnest now. I must write my book.

But you are coming back to the villa. Your clothes are there, and you will want to say good-bye to Edith.

No, that is just what I want to avoid and that is what you can do for me. I can't say good-bye to Edith. She would persuade me to stay. It would be so easy! You, especially, could persuade me to stay, but I know you won't, now that you understand how I feel. I shall catch the night express for Milan. Please, try to explain to Edith. . . and you can pack my bags and send them after me.

But where are you going?

I don't know, and even if I did know and told you, you might be certain that I would change my mind and go somewhere else. Dispatch my bags to the American Express Company in Paris and I will send for them.