To prove how false this maxim was relative to Madam d' Houdetot, and how far she was right to depend upon her own strength of mind, it would be necessary to enter into the detail of our long and frequent conversations, and follow them, in all their liveliness during the four months we passed together in an intimacy almost without example between two friends of different sexes who contain themselves within the bounds which we never exceeded.

Ah! if I had lived so long without feeling the power of real love, my heart and senses abundantly paid the arrears.

What, therefore, are the transports we feel with the object of our affections by whom we are beloved, since the passions of which my idol did not partake inspired such as I felt?
But I am wrong in saying Madam Houdetot did not partake of the passion of love; that which I felt was in some measure confined to myself; yet love was equal on both sides, but not reciprocal.

We were both intoxicated with the passion, she for her lover, and I for herself; our sighs and delicious tears were mingled together.

Tender confidants of the secrets of each other, there was so great a similarity in our sentiments that it was impossible they should not find some common point of union.