was supposed to have been drowned, and everything was known
about you both. But I still kept my own independent knowledge to
myself; to this day, no one else knows that you were one of the two in
Palace Gardens; and I still blame myself more than you may think for
nearly everything that has happened since.

"You said yesterday that your going to the war and getting wounded
wiped out nothing that had gone before. I hope you are not growing
morbid about the past. It is not for me to condone it, and yet I know
that Mr. Raffles was what he was because he loved danger and adventure,
and that you were what you were because you loved Mr. Raffles. But,
even admitting it was all as bad as bad could be, he is dead, and you
are punished. The world forgives, if it does not forget. You are
young enough to live everything down. Your part in the war will help
you in more ways than one. You were always fond of writing. You have
now enough to write about for a literary lifetime. You must make a new
name for yourself. You must Harry, and you will!

"I suppose you know that my aunt, Lady Melrose, died some years ago?
She was the best friend I had in the world, and it is thanks to her
that I am living my own life now in the one way after my own heart.
This is a new block of flats, one of those where they do everything for
you; and though mine is tiny, it is more than all I shall ever want.
One does just exactly what one likes--and you must blame that habit for
all that is least conventional in what I have said. Yet I should like
you to understand why it is that I have said so much, and, indeed, left
nothing unsaid. It is because I want never to have to say or hear
another word about anything that is past and over. You may answer that
I run no risk! Nevertheless, if you did care to come and see me some
day as an old friend, we might find one or two new points of contact,
for I am rather trying to write myself! You might almost guess as much
from this letter; it is long enough for anything; but, Harry, if it
makes you realize that one of your oldest friends is glad to have seen
you, and will be gladder still to see you again, and to talk of
anything and everything except the past, I shall cease to be ashamed
even of its length!

"And so good-by for the present from
"____"

I omit her name and nothing else. Did I not say in the beginning that
it should never be