"Of all you tell me we will talk hereafter.

The scales of our science have no weights fine enough for the gossamer threads of a maiden's pure fancies.

Enough for me--for us both--if out from all such illusions start one truth, told to you, lovely child, from the heavens; told to me, ruder man, on the earth; repeated by each pulse of this heart that woos you to hear and to trust,--now and henceforth through life unto death, 'Each has need of the other,'-- I of you, I of you! my Lilian! my Lilian!".