[Note added in pencil by Kitson:
Norwich April 7th 1834
My Dear John
I received yours on Sunday Morning. I thank you for remembering me, when you have so much to write, so many to address. How ought you to respect young who are so dearly respected!
With Geldart last evening I walked to Postwick Grove, just such an evening as that of our first walk there last Year, the same stillness & greyness, the same melting of sunset hues with the mellowness of twilight and these fading into the sombre shades of evening. We leaned by the old gate there and talked and lingered, untill night almost came, and the light was on the rivers face. It was of most painful feelings, of most choking regrets that the hour was made. It was a fresh parting. I felt again my immense loss. I was forcibly reminded, of that which made my life sweet, that I was now reft of all I had loved, of all that made me seek to be worthy & win it of being loved. The place, the hour, so intensely fresh and vividly repeated, exhibited the contrast of my loneliness so strongly, that the pain of parting, the wounds of severance freshly throbbed & opened as if it were the first moment they had bled.
That you were happy was like the beautiful glowing that in the distant sky, gilding the horizon, that you respected and esteemed me, Dixon, your Friend, was like the quiet grey, of confidence, pervading through the brightness that might