TO THE READER
Here then, do I end this book, because this is the Book of Diana and she is gone out of my life.
So do I lay down my pen for a while, uneasily conscious of my narrative's many imperfections and greatly fearing that I have fallen very far short in my description of Diana.
But what work of man may hope to be utterly perfect? And who shall recapture the vanished glory of the dream?
Here, then, do I let fall the curtain; when it rises, the world and I shall be two years older, two years wiser, two years better, or the worse.
Book Two