September 28
Still nothing to report.
I am astonished at the false impression these entries give of myself. The picture is incomplete anyhow. It represents the cloud of forebodings over my inner self but does not show the outward front I present to others. This is one of almost constant gaiety—unforced and quite natural. Ask E⸺, who said yesterday I was like a schoolboy.
“Camerade, I give you my hand!
I give you my love more precious than money,
I give you myself before preaching or law;
Will you give me yourself? Will you come, travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?”
She cut this out of her copy of Walt Whitman and gave it me soon after our engagement. It is very precious to me.