From a scrap dated Wednesday, April 14th, 1869:
“I begin to suspect a lack of insight into my own heart with regard to the males of the species. Am I just a giddy young thing? I fear I may be.
“Let me explain myself. In the past week, my palms became sweaty during encounters with several men. First and most frequently, there is Mr. MacBeth. Every time I am with him, I am as nervous as a newborn colt. As curious, too. I feel an intense attraction to the man. Our conversations are full of veiled allusions to a possible relationship of a more intimate nature. So far, I always force myself to steer the conversation toward more appropriate subjects. But that is only so far. If matters progress at the current rate and in the current trajectory, O doubt not that I shall soon let down my guard.
“On a darker note, a desire to learn more about the dangerous Mr. Plutonian has led me to enjoy his company for two dances in as many nights. Our talk was innocent enough, but probing. I do not think this desire, at least, is driven by lust. Rather, I believe myself to be merely drawn in by his darkness. On the outside, he seems a perfect gentleman despite his form. But i have felt the heat of his predatory gaze. I have seen him lick a long, glistening fang. He is a devil… and what lady does not wish to dance with the devil? I only hope that I will continue to return safely to the other side once the dance is done.”
* Here, the communication ends abruptly.