It Is Greater Than The Stars -

I Trust It Will Not Be Giving Away Professional Secrets To Say That Many Readers Would Be Surprised, Perhaps Shocked, At The Questions Which Some Newspaper Editors Will Put To A Defenseless Woman Under The Guise Of Flattery.

She Was Still Under The Spell Of Her Infatuation. She Had Tried To Forget Him, Realizing The Inutility Of Remembering. But The Thought Of Him Was Like An Obsession, Ever Pressing Itself Upon Her. It Was Not That She Dwelt Upon Details Of Their Acquaintance, Or Recalled In Any Special Or Peculiar Way His Personality; It Was His Being, His Existence, Which Dominated Her Thought, Fading Sometimes As If It Would Melt Into The Mist Of The Forgotten, Reviving Again With An Intensity Which Filled Her With An Incomprehensible Longing.

He Could See Plainly That She Was Not Herself. That Is, He Could Not See That She Was Becoming Herself And Daily Casting Aside That Fictitious Self Which We Assume Like A Garment With Which To Appear Before The World.

Do You Suppose A Woman Knows Why She Loves? Does She Select? Does She Say To Herself, 'go To! Here Is A Distinguished Statesman With Presidential Possibilities; I Shall Proceed To Fall In Love With Him.' Or, 'i Shall Set My Heart Upon This Musician, Whose Fame Is On Every Tongue?' Or 'this Financier, Who Controls The World's Money Markets?'

She Wanted Something To Happen - Something, Anything: She Did Not Know What.