the lights of the new year went up, you raised your glass toward me, so I raised my glass of lemon-ade (for I had not yet grown used to spirits), and you said to me: "To the end of our lives!" — just as the photographer took a pic-ture of the three of us, in which we appeared drinking a toast to the end of our life together!... We are still in the springtime of life, and we have parted!

And this is the song "If You Return," which you sent me translated from the French! That was after our first quarrel! You had asked me that day to stop mixing with my brother's friends when they visited us! And I felt a kind of affront to my dignity; I felt a kind of unease at your want of trust in me and in my love for you! I told you that I was free in my conduct! I told you that I would accept no one's rule over my movements, and then I left you in anger! A week passed without our meeting, and then you sent me the words of this translated song, and I came back to you, and I never again joined my brother's friends, despite his anger and their bewilderment at my strange behavior.

Then here is a copy of the words of "I Shall Wait"! I can hear the tune now! We were dancing to it as you told me of your resolve to travel! I knew that I would wait for you all my life.

And this is the right hand of an old glove of mine. We were watching the film "Lydia," and toward the end of the picture you took my hand and began drawing off the glove little by little. The story was about a girl whom four men loved. They met her again when age had overtaken them all: three of them knew her... but the fourth — the one she had loved, and had spent her whole life wait-ing for — did not know her. And at the end of the film you raised my hand to your lips, whispering:

"I shall not forget! I shall know you, for I shall never part from you!"... And yet the long years have parted us.

And here is a green necktie I bought months before your birthday! How proud I was as I bought it! How careful I was as I chose it! I wanted you to admire it! I paid for it out of what I had saved from my own allowance, and to me it was like a piece of myself, woven of threads of sacrifices in which I denied myself what I wanted in order to offer it to you!... And... your birthday passed with you far away from me, so it stayed with me among my memories! I could not bring myself to give it to my brother, for I saw it as though it were around your neck, and I could

not bear the sight of it worn by anyone else!

Why did we quarrel then? What happened? Oh, how stupid we were! How stupid I was — and how stupid I am now, for opening this drawer and raising the past from the dead!

I wonder — do you go back to your memories? Have you a box of them? Have you kept anything of mine?

No! I shall not go back to the past! I shall rid myself of these memories! I shall burn them, every one! Rid myself of them? Years have gone by and I thought I had forgotten — time has effaced what is past... and yet I still... remember... I still feel the longing for what was, in the old days!

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