“You won’t let me see you?”
“O do understand! Can you see me? Can we see each other, Dear?”
“You can’t do this. You can’t. You don’t know what you mean. Let me come. I am all alone. O don’t judge me, Fanny!”
“You know I don’t judge you.”
“Let me see you ... once.”
They were rigid in struggle.
“Clara, I am afraid to see you.”
... Still....
“I am going a way that is terrible and unknown. It does not get easier. There is no getting used to it. Each moment, there is yearning to turn ... get out ... fall away....”