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dear friend - believe me these words are not the mere cheap words of showy rhetoric, but realities and actualities felt in the blood and felt along the veins, bound up with every fibre of my being. I have no language - all words fail me - wherein to say how dear and precious to me is this great cause: and it may chance that the look in my face which saddened you is the result of long watchings and waitings - lone ecstacies of unutterable desire - all the poor heart on tip-toe of intense forelooking. It sometimes seems to me that I can hear with my ears the cry that has come down the centuries, culminating now and here in a wail that tingles to the shivering stars. You will smile at my enthusiasm, but it is not so much taht as it is an awful sense like an Infinite shadow, overspreading me and making the time like the time of Sinai. How I thank you for your invitation - for your proffered hospitality - someday, please God, I hope to thank you for it in person; but not now. Nevertheless you must let me come and see you in my thoughts, and never forget that whether I am sick or well, wounded or unhurt, I am always and ever, Yours, Richard Realf. This note is necessarily brief: I will write again at the earliest opportunity. God bless you forever, Amen.