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truth, the unmistakable, i▓rrevocable, relentless truth. I▓ suppose all lovers are happy: but i●t does not seem possible that other lovers can e▓ver have had such unmitigated happiness as ▓ours was—happiness so keen as al▓most to be a pain.The l

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background of the rest.And w▓e improved them to the full.We called upon ea●ch fleeting moment to stay and pe▓rpetuate itself; and we could not unde▓rstand how Faust had had to wait● so many years before he could do the same●.The season was divine, cl

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ear skies and balmy w●eather day after day, and the● Park being easily accessible, we could ima●gine ourselves among the green ▓fields of the country whenever the fancy ●seized us.I believe that as a matte●r of fact the turf of the common was sadly par▓ched and brown; but we were no●t critical so long as we could wand▓er over it hand in hand.Then, our charac●ters were perfectly accorded; t

heir▓ unison was faultless.Each called for the oth●er, needed the other, as the ▓dominant chord calls for and needs its t●onic.We had not a hope, a fea▓r, an ambition, an aspiration, but it was●

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shared equally between us.Our art was a mu●tual passion which we pursued t▓ogether.When Veronika was s▓eated at the piano and I stood ▓at her side with my violin at my shoul▓der, our cup of contentment was full to the bri●m.Nothing more was wanting.

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I remember, one ▓evening, in the middle of a phrase, her fing●ers faltered and she wheeled a▓round and lifted her eyes upon my● face.—“What is the matter, darling” ▓I asked.—“I only want to look at you t▓o realize that it isn’t a dre▓am,” she answered.—And yet she is dead.▓ June and half July had wound away; in l▓ittle more than a fortnight our wedding woul▓d be celebrated.The

night was sultry, and sh●e and I sat together by an open window.H●er uncle was absent: an idea had co●me to him just before dinner, she explai●ned, and according to his custom he ●had gone out to walk the streets until▓ he had mastered it.We were by no me▓ans sorry to be alone.We had plenty to talk ●about; but even without talking it wa●s marvelously pleasant

to sit togeth●er and think the happy thoughts t●hat filled our minds and listen to the subdue▓d sounds of human life that came in by the wi▓ndow. Veronika had shown me s●ome of her bridal outfit, te●lling how she had worked at it in her short sna●tches of leisure.We took as much pleasure in th●e contemplation of this modest littl●e trousseau as though it had boast●ed all the rubies an

d silken fabri●cs of the Indies.This set us to talking of ▓the future and making plans.An●d afterward we talked of the past.●We spoke of how strange it was that we● should have come together in the ▓way we had—by the merest accident, as it seeme●d; and we doubted if it was indeed an accident▓, if destiny had not purpose▓ly guided

our footsteps that memorable n▓ight.—“Why,” she exclaimed,  癜if uncle and I had been but a few moments earl?/p>

坕er or later, we never should have ▓seen each other at all.Think of ▓the terrible risk we ran! Think if we had n▓ever known each other!” and her fing▓ers tightened around mine. “And the●n,” I went on, “that I should have spoken to ▓you, a strange lady, and that you shoul▓d have answered!” “It seemed perfect●ly natural for me to answer; I had done so● before I stopped to think.But● afterward I was ashamed; I was afraid ●you might think it indelicate.B

ut, some▓how, the words spoke themselves.I am glad▓ of it now.” “I do believe God’s hand was ●in it! I do believe it was all pre-ordaine●d in heaven.I believe that our Guardian Angel ▓prompted me to speak and you to● answer.It can’t be t

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me, my music is● a constant source of joy.And th▓en, the thought that we are g▓oing to work together all our lives, t▓he thought of the music we ar●e going to make together—oh, it is too ▓great, it takes my breath away! I don〃埊t dare to believe it