Chilvers passed while I was sitting here and caught me smiling. I was reading the sixteenth entry in this diary.
"What are you grinning at, Smith?" he demanded.
I did not tell him. I had been reading my soliloquy to the effect that the knowledge of love is conveyed without verbal expression between those who love. I had written: "The man who fails to avail himself of this silent but eloquent language, and who stupidly assaults a woman with an open avowal of an alleged love deserves to be coldly rejected."
Then I wrote that these voiceless messages to the one you love would be considered and finally answered, and that there might come a day "when over the throbbing unseen wire there comes a telepagram sounding the letters 'Y-E-S,' then proceed with the sweet formality of a verbal confession and avowal of your love, and you will not be disappointed."
I have received that glorious message! Grace Harding has told me that she loves me!
The message was transmitted from the depths of her beautiful eyes! It has been confirmed by the gentle pressure of her hand as it rested on my arm! It has been echoed in the accents of her sweet voice! I have read it in the blush which mantles her check as I draw near, and I know it from a thousand little tokens which my heart understands and which my feeble words cannot express.
I am
ENTRY NO. XXII
I AM UTTERLY MISERABLE
On Board "Oceanic," East-bound.