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times since yesterday. I'll look upon the hateful scrawl no more. (Tosses it from him, paces in a disordered manner about the room, then returns to it again.) What, does it take hold of me still? the fascination of a snake is about it; I cannot keep away from it: I must read that passage once more. (Sits down again and reads.) "Ah the cross fate that separates us so cruelly! We were once, as you know, within an ace of coming together, of consummating that dearest wish of my heart. Those dear woods of Oakenly! how dear they would then have been! The tender green boughs of spring with all their lovely blossoms would have smelt more fragrant; the birds would have sung more melodiously; the fair face of nature would have smiled more sweetly." These the sentiments, these expressions of one woman to another! It is as evidently a loveletter, as that my clenched fist presses this table. Some part indeed seems irrelevant; but far less ingenious commentators than our ancient text books have been handled by would find no difficulty in it at all.—Ay, plain enough: here is a good rule to try it by: substitute Robert for Charlotte, and there is sense in it; without this, it is a mass of absolute absurdity. All this pains! Why not? I have heard of most intricate ciphering made use of in such clandestine matters. This is simple and more ingenious still—and yet—pest take these tormenting