had time to tell you—things I have not spoken about with anyone—just as is the case with most men of sense in this world... eh? But do you know", he went on, sitting up and continuing with a manner more and more reposeful, thoughtful, strikingly unlike his ordinary nervous self, ".. but do you know that I have come back from the Camp to you, my dear Oswald, certain that I shall never be so restless and troubled a creature again. Thanks to you. For you see, so much that I have shut into myself I know now that I can trust to your heart. But give me a little time. To hare a friend to trust myself to wholly—that is new to me."
I was deeply touched. I felt certain again that a change of some sort—mysterious, profound—had come over Imre, during those few days at the Camp. Something had happened. I recognized the mood of his letters. But what had evolved or disclosed it?
"Yes, my dear von N..." I returned, "your letters have said that, in a way, to me.
