"I _do_ think! I _do_ imagine! I _do_ expect! It's not a new phase, it began a couple of years ago, when I fell in love with the portrait of a girl's face, and the portrait of the girl herself, as portrayed in her weekly letters. And I diagnosed the position from those letters, and thinks I:--`That Martin fellow will soon break loose, he's coming to life with a rush;--that little girl's billet is about run out. She will be needing another, one of these days. _I could give her another_!' And I set myself to pave the way. "So there it is, Katrine; you have it at last--the full and free confession of a man, who, bereft of force, resorted to guile wherewith to win a wife... "I've been sitting for a quarter of an hour staring at that last word, and _thinking_! "It seems an extraordinary term to use in connection with a woman one has never seen, but I know _you_, we know each other, better than half the couples who go to the altar. It's no good reminding me that this is only the fourth time I have written to you. I know that perfectly well, but will you kindly recollect that I have been sharing in letters written by you for the last six years, besides which, of course, I have had the advantage of hearing constant descriptions from Dorothea's lips. It's more difficult for you; don't think I minimise that! If I seem wanting in consideration it is _only_ seeming; I realise only too well how hard it must be for you, poor, proud little girl. But you must come, you know! There's no way out of that. Be sensible, Katrine. Don't get angry! Sit down and let me talk to you quietly, and show you how the question appears to me... "I have never wanted to marry a woman before, though I've met scores of nice girls. I never felt for one of them the sympathy, the affinity I know for you. You are not in love with me; I don't expect it for the moment, but you are interested; so far as you've gone, you like and approve. You've shown that in your letters, and are honest enough to admit it now. Then why not give me a chance? Is there anything derogatory to a sane woman's dignity in meeting, at his own request, and on perfectly free, unconditional terms, a man who loves her, and wishes to make her his wife? You know there is not.--I ask for no promises; nothing but the chance to meet you on an ordinary friendly footing. If it eases the way, I promise to say no word of love for, shall we say three months? I'd prefer _weeks_--but it's your verdict. "I want you, Katrine! I need you! I want a tangible, flesh and blood love, instead of its shadowy substitute. I want to take you in my arms, and hold you close till the red burns in your cheeks. I want to look down into those deep eyes, and to see them look back into mine. I want to stroke that curly hair, and to kiss those lips. Most of all I want your lips. I hunger to love, and I hunger to be loved. The thought of your coming would be like life; your refusal, blackness like death.