Sent from Paris, evening, 23 September 1794
I have been playing and laughing with the little girl so long, that I cannot take up my pen to address you without emotion. Pressing her to my bosom, she looked so like you (entre nous, your best looks, for I do not admire your commercial face), every nerve seemed to vibrate to the touch, and I began to think that there was something in the assertion of man and wife being one — for you seemed to pervade my whole frame, quickening the beat of my heart, and lending me the sympathetic tears you excited.
Have I anything more to say to you? No; not for the present — the rest is all flown away; and indulging tenderness for you, I cannot now complain of some people here, who have ruffled my temper for two or three days past.
–Mary Wollstonecraft, mother of Mary Shelley, author of A Vindication of the Rights of Women
Letter published in Love Letters of Great Women, many copies of which await you in our fireplace room
One response to “To Gilbert Imlay, who, in the end, was not very good to her”
That letter feels like it was written yesterday.