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They tested me by sending her out of the city for nearly a month. I endured the torture of absence, 
of doubt, of despair, with all the might of my manhood. To confirm myself ceremonially in this 
course of combat, I saw her rival occasionally, so as to affirm my absolute devotion to my ideal. To 
repulse the demons of realism, I set my foot upon the neck of the Snake that strove to shake my 
faith in the existence of perfection. 
On July 8th, the Cat returned to New York. Love had conquered. We consecrated ourselves that 
same night to its service. But though the Cat had given herself thus simply and straightforwardly, 
she enjoyed the exercise of her power over me by tormenting me with doubts of her truth. She 
pretended to be disgusted by the sexual side of love and in a thousand ways kept me on pins and 
needles. Not many days elapsed before she suddenly left the city without leaving word for me. She 
had driven me to such desperation that I nearly lost control of myself when I heard that she had 
gone. 
Summoning my veteran chief of staff, General Gynoniastix, I was readily convinced that this was a 
case for employing the strategy familiar to all men who have made up their mind to preserve their 
independence even at the cost of a broken heart. I telephoned straightaway to the Snake and asked 
her to lunch, after which we went round to my apartment. I was not moved by love; I simply wanted 
to torture the woman I hated as the woman I loved was torturing me. I made no advances; I was 
brutally rude; and to clinch the matter, I inflicted physical pain. 
I had unusually pointed canine teeth. I fix a fold of flesh between the two points; and then, beating 
time with one hand, suddenly snap, thus leaving two neat indentations on the flesh concerned. I 
have often done this as a demonstration; often as a jest or a psychological experiment, sometimes 
as an intimation of affection, but never till then as a callous and cruel insult. Probably I misjudged 
my own motives. Somehow or other the genuineness and integrity of this lost soul began to appeal 
to me. I began to contrast her hard bitter cynical disbelief with the soft honied superficial 
assurance of her rival: before I knew what I was doing, our duel had developed into a death struggle 
in which my hate and hopelessness strove to swamp themselves in a surge of amorous frenzy. 
The spasm swept me away. I no longer remember how we went out and dined, or how we got down 
to her house. Every nerve in my soul was screaming with implacable pain. Through it all I stuck to 
my guns; I never forgot that I loved the other woman and all that she stood for. But when at last 
exhaustion ended the orgy, twelve hours or more of indescribably insane intoxication, I sank into a 
sleep deeper than death --- and woke at dawn to find myself inscrutably purged of iniquity. I knew 
myself innocent 
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in a sense more sublime than any imagination can conceive, and from this state I came mysteriously 
into a trance of a kind which I had never experienced. Its occurrence marks a definite stage in my 
spiritual career. 
It is so important to the understanding of my life that it must be quoted verbatim from the record 
which I made immediately on my returning to my apartment --- where I received an additional proof 
that I had come successfully through the ordeal in the shape of a telegram from Pasht explaining 
why she had left the city, and how she had been prevented from letting me know. (Another string of 
lies!) 
Result: This is one of the greatest experiences of my life. Curious that the 1906 success also came 
through a magical thanksgiving under stress of passion. I went off to sleep almost at once. In the 
morning I woke early, before seven, in an absolutely renewed physical condition. I had the clean 
fresh feeling of healthy boyhood, and was alert and active as a kitten --- post talem mortem! 
Mentally, I woke into Pure Love. This was symbolized as a cube1 of blue-white light like a diamond 
of the best quality. It was lucid, translucent, self-luminous and yet not radiating forth. I suppose 
because there was nothing else in the cosmos. This verb love is intransitive; the love has no object. 
My gross mind vanished; when, later on, memory pictures of Hilarion2 arose, they were rejected 
automatically. All the desire --- quality, the clinging, the fear, were no more; it was Pure Love