He had pneumonia some weeks ago and went out too soon. His
heart also is bad. I believe now he can get well if great care is
taken.
Dear Paul, I don't know what to say to you. I have a bedroom in this
house and every one is very kind to me, but you will think me very
wicked. I can't help it. I can't come back to you and Grace. Perhaps
later when he is quite well I shall be able to, but I don't think
so. You don't need me; I have never been satisfactory to you, only a
worry. Grace will never be able to live with me again, and I can't
stay in Skeaton any more after Uncle Mathew's death. It has all been
a wretched mistake, Paul, our marriage, hasn't it? It was my fault
entirely. I shouldn't have married you when I knew that I would
always love Martin. I thought then that I should be able to make you
happy. If now I felt that I could I would come back at once, but you
know as well as I do that, after this, we shall never be happy
together again. I blame myself so much but I can't act differently.
Perhaps when Martin is well he will not want me at all, but even
then I don't think I could come back.
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