XVIII
I have a new friend.
A friend.... When I see him, it is like a revision of all I am, a kind of unusual sincerity that urges me on, amplifies me, and carries me toward him.
When he is away, I have the impression of having discovered a treasure within myself from which I draw in deep draughts....
And also of hymns striking up beneath my tread.
XIX
"Why? Yes, tell me why you squeezed my hand so hard?"
I lean towards him, my head touches his chest. He is enraptured, overwhelmed, and as smiling as the night when it is about to pass.
He did not answer.
A silky wind blows down from a sheltering eminence and carves his face and makes me cling to him. Are we on the borders of the true silence, the ultimate silence in which human beings find themselves face to face? "You! You!"