"It is no longer as if we were separate, dearest; can't you remember and feel that we are one?"
"In a way I do. It is very sweet."
"You say in a way. In what way?"
"Why, David?"
"I want your point of view."
"I see. We're not really one until we see from each other's hilltop, are we?"
"No, and you never take me into the secret places of your heart and let me look off from your own hilltop."
"Didn't I this very evening, David?"
"We stood on the same spot of earth and looked off on the same distance, yet in my soul I know I did not see what you saw."
"Pictures come to me very suddenly and just float by, hardly understood by myself. I didn't want you to see all I saw, David. I don't know how comes it, but all the time, even in the midst of our great gladness—right when it is most beautiful—far before me, right across our way, is a place that is dim. It seems 'most like the shadows that fall