not aware that you saved my life.
What a unique existence was hers!
Four years later, he wrote:—
I feel half sorry to hear that the book is so nearly ready; it will be the last, I suppose, and will not only yield the final news of Emily Dickinson, but take from me a living companionship I shall miss. After the volume of letters was published, of which Mrs. Todd was the principal editor, Colonel Higginson wrote to her November 29, 1894:—
Emily has arrived.
They sent her to Sever's book store where I rarely go and where she might have hid forever in a cupboard . . . . It is extraordinary how the mystic and bizarre Emily is born at once between two pages . . . as Thoreau says summer passes to autumn in an instant.
All after that is the E. D. I knew.
But how is it possible to reconcile her accounts of early book reading . . . with the yarns (O! irreverence) she told me about their first books, concealed from her father in the great bush at the door or under the piano