Not that he regarded the writing of letters to Veronica at all as a hopeful means of moving her; but he felt that he might write her much which he would not say.

He loved her with the deepest sincerity, and with an almost morbid passion, and the idea of approaching her in any way was irresistible.

He had not realized before now that he could at least try the experiment of writing.

She knew that he loved her, and at the worst, she might tell him not to write again.
He remembered his terrible awkwardness and hesitation when he had first told her of his love, and his humiliation afterwards, when he had reflected upon the poor figure he had made.

There would be no humiliation, now.