Will you, if you love me, _not_ touch on the subject (I mean on the personal thing to myself) in your next letters, not even by saying that you were sorry you did once touch on them.

I know how foolish and morbid I must seem to you.

So I am made, and I can't help my idiosyncrasies.
Now don't mistake me.

Tell me all about the spirits, only not about what they say of _me_.

I am very interested.