"Unhappily, the age of love-philters seems to have passed.

And now I will leave you for the present--time will work wonders, I think.

I must go back to New York; no one must suspect I have left it for an hour.

I will return in a day or two, and by that time I trust you will no longer be in such a reckless frame of mind.

I don't want you to die by any means; you are a great deal too pretty and piquant, and I love you far too well.