To say it pleases me is hardly adequate. It's marvelous... a work of art. This must have taken such a long time, even with your considerable talent.

( The knowledge that Armand must have been thinking about him with each stroke of his pen is too great a thing for him to truly comprehend the meaning of right now. Touching as it is, it makes him feel slightly off-balance, unsure what his old companion wants or needs from him and without any clear way to reciprocate. )

I'll think of you when I read it.