Even if, by an almost impossible coincidence, it had been precisely the letter of my invention that Gilberte had addressed to me of her own accord, recognising my own work in it I should not have had the impression that I was receiving something that had not originated in myself, something real, something new, a happiness external to my mind, independent of my will, a gift indeed from love.
Bien bitartean, orrialde bat berrirakurtzen nuen, ez Gilbertek idatzia, baina bai, gutxienez, harengandik etorria: