[41 Brimmer St.; forwarded to 1418 East 63d St., Seattle]
I was surprised and happy to have a letter yesterday – that of the 7th – as I was not expecting one till the end of next week perhaps. Your questions did not seem to me either stupid or insistently repetitive, so you should know by now. There are still, no doubt, many gaps, which when filled in, will add to understanding; it is simply impossible to explain a lifetime at once, but gradually I hope, with the aid of questions from you, that it may become clear. So do not, please, undertake never to take the initiative again. For instance, you are still a bit confused on one point. YouHale, EmilyTSE's love for;x2and their conversation in Eccleston Square;a1 say you suppose that ‘the night at Eccleston Square was too confusing, too painful to make reasonable action possible’. Of course I had not thought out beforehand how I should answer a question which was unexpected; but my refusal was more to do with you than anyone else. To have answered your question would have meant explaining the whole history; and to do that I should either have had to pretend that I no longer cared for you – which falsehood would have been beyond my powers of chivalry to commit – or else to admit that I still cared; and I felt that it would be wrong to let you know the truth when I was hopelessly separated from you – I know so little about your life in the meantime, and would it have been fair to you to let you know what might have directed your thought more towards me? It is necessary to speak without fear of vanity, in such a matter; even the remotest chance was to be avoided. ButHale, Emilycorrespondence with TSE;w3TSE on his decision to renew;b2 then why, you will think, did I change my behaviour and abandon my scruples and write to you as I did a year ago? Well, perhaps even that is indefensible, and indeed I have worried a great deal about it – though if I regretted it I should be superhuman – but we were both older and I think both very much more mature than six years before; and last summer the suppression became unendurable. Even so, I attribute my letter entirely to our meeting: I felt, from the moment that you came into the room, that there was something very strong and deep between us about which I could not be deceived, and which made everyone else seem quite unreal to me. And now there’s another matter explained, I hope.
The rest of your letter I must answer next Monday. Like all your letters, it gives me a happiness of which I know I am unworthy.