She:
Thinking of the world
Sleeves wet with tears are my bed-fellows.
Calmly to dream sweet dreams—
There is no night for that.
"HIS HIGHNESS CAME IN A HUMBLE PALANQUIN"
He: "I am not a person who can leave my house easily. You may think me rude, but my feeling for you grows ardent." And he crept into the room. Felt horribly embarrassed, but conversed together and at daybreak he returned.
Next day's letter:
In what way are you thinking about me? I feel anxiety—