* * * * * Hildreth had gone. With her going the bottom seemed to drop out of my existence, leaving a black hole where it had fallen through. I walked about, looking so truly miserable, that even Baxter spoke with gentle consideration to me. "Poor Johnnie, to think you'd run into a proposition like this, the first pop out of the box." "No, it isn't what you think ... I'm getting malaria, I believe." * * * * * But to be deprived of her, my first love. No longer to be in her presence, no longer to watch her quiet smile, the lovely droop of her mouth's corner ... to feed on the kisses no more that had become as necessary as daily bread itself to me-- I began to lose weight ... to start up in the night, after a brief fit of false slumber, hearing myself, as if it were an alien voice, crying her name aloud.... I whispered and talked tender, whimsical, silly things to my pillow, holding it in my arms, as if it were she.... * * * * * Each day I sent her four, five letters ... letters full of madness, absurdity, love, despair, wild expressions of intimacy that I would Have died to know anybody else ever saw. Her first letter in return burned me alive with happiness.... * * * * * "--you know why she went to the city," Penton teased, "it's because 'Gene Mallows, the California poet, is up there. He and she got on pretty well when we were on the coast." "You lie!" I bellowed, beside myself, "Hildreth will be faithful to me ... she has promised." Penton Baxter looked me up and down, courageously, coolly, for a long time. Slowly I realised what I had just said. "That's all I wanted to know, John Gregory! I've got it out of you at last!" He turned on his heel. Changing his mind, he faced me again. This time there was a despairful agony of kindness in his face. "Dear boy, I'm sorry for all this thing that has come between us. But there is yet time for you to keep out of it. Hildreth and I are done with each other forever ... but you needn't be mixed up in this affair.... "Johnnie, let her stay in New York, and, no matter how much she wants you, don't go up there to join her." "I love her. I adore her. I want to be where she is. Now the whole truth is out." "My poor friend!" "Don't call me your friend--you--" He tightened his lips.... "If you go up there to join her, remember that I gave you fair warning." * * * * * I could endure it no longer, the torment of not seeing her, of not being with her.... As her favourite sonneteer, Santayana, writes--lines she often quoted-- "Love leads me on, no end of love appears. Is this the heaven, poets, that ye paint? Oh then, how like damnation to be blessed!" * * * * * I informed Ruth, Darrie, Penton that I was going to New York in the morning....