Page:The Wreck.djvu/177

THE WRECK

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No words will be uttered but heart will speak to heart; it is my love for you that gives me this assurance. I do not boast myself worthy of you but I feel that my adoration cannot be in vain.

I fully realise that this letter reads like a laboured com- position and for that reason I have an impulse to tear it up; but it is impossible for me yet to write a letter that will truly express my feelings. After all, letters are things that two persons must interchange. In the first letter of a series the writer can hardly give true expression to his sentiments. When our two minds are in full communion then I shall be able to write to you letters that are real letters. Only when the doors on both sides of a room are open can the wind blow through it freely.

Kamala, dearest, when shall I find the door of your heart?

All this will come to fruition slowly and haste would defeat its own purpose. I shall reach Ghazipur on the morning of the day after you receive this. I beg that I may find you in our house on my arrival. We have been long homeless and I can endure this life no longer. Now at last I look forward to crossing our own threshold and beholding in the queen of my heart the mistress of my house. That moment will be our second "auspicious look."

Do you remember our first on that moonlight night by the riverside on the lonely sand-bank — under the open sky, without the semblance of a roof over our heads and no parents or relations to preside over the ceremony?

It seems unreal to me, like a dream. And so I ardently anticipate another "auspicious look" in the clear calm light of morning surrounded by four walls and solid reality. Your sweet smiling face framed in our own doorway will for ever remain enshrined in my memory. It is a picture that I long to behold. Dearest, I am a suppliant at the gate of your heart: do not send me empty away! Your devoted

Ramesh.

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