Dear Anne, I can listen no longer in silence. Anne, you pierce my soul. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I am half agony, half hope. I know you are to marry Mr. Elliot, but I will never forgive myself if I do not tell you this. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone I think and plan. But of course you have not seen this. How could you? Because your love has not lasted as long as mine. Anne, I have loved no one but you. And I don’t think I ever will. I have thought many times about how to tell you this, but the pain of a love unrequited rendered me silent. Tell me not that I am too late. My love for you has never faltered.
