Yvette to Henri.

12 July

Darling,

Now another day has passed without my seeing you. How horrid and long are these days. I know very well that I should not write that, that I shouldn’t allow myself to give way to sadness. But from time to time, darling, it overwhelms me. I have been walking in the Viennese forest. It is a lovely forest, smelling of good herbs and leaves slowly growing. It dominates the Danube and that would be very beautiful. But I got no joy from this forest.  Though you know how much I love the woods. I thought the city felt foreign to me because it was a city. And I don’t love cities! I thought that the small depression, which had gripped me since I woke, would blow away with the fresh air and the ground under my feet. But neither the fields nor the woods had that effect on me. I don’t even want the air and the light. I don’t want the grass; I don’t see the sun between the trees. I need my bread. My good bread. Without it, a hunger grips y heart and nothing can assuage it.

[Amirah notes: I want you, I want you, I want you…If she were not so selfish would she t go on with all this sensuous talk when he can do nothing more than he is doing to get her over. All it will do is to rouse  him more. If it were me, I would write it, to get it out of my system and then tear it up and write him a calmer letter!]