But Love is better than sight." "I love your love too much.

And _that_ is the worst fault, my beloved, I can ever find in my love of _you_." These are sentences that tell of what can be no private possession, being as liberal and free as our light and air.

And if the shadow of a cloud appears--appears and passes away--it is a shadow that has floated over many other hearts beside that of the writer: "How dreadfully natural it would be to me, seem to me, if you _did_ leave off loving me! How it would be like the sun's setting ...

and no more wonder.

Only, more darkness." The old exchange of tokens, the old symbolisms--a lock of hair, a ring, a picture, a child's penholder--are good enough for these lovers, as they had been for others before them.