Forgive me for startling you with the impetuosity of my sentiments, my dear Scarlett, I mean my dear Mrs. Kennedy. But it cannot have escaped your notice that for some time past, the friendship I have felt for you has ripened into a deeper feeling. A feeling more beautiful, more pure, more sacred. Dare I name it? Can it be love?
Reblogged from Bohemea.
January 07, 2012, 12:14pm
