er I
left her. Should I ever know? When the hour was up I went back into the
sitting-room. I had struggled against the awful depression which was
overcoming me. I suppose every man has committed some action he is sorry
and ashamed of, forced thereto by some emotion, either of anger or
desire, which has been too strong for his will to control--. This is the
way murders must often have been committed, and other crimes--I had not
the slightest intention of behaving like a cad--or of doing anything
which I knew would probably part us forever.--If my insult had been
deliberate or planned, I would have held her longer, and knowing I was
going to lose her by my action, I would have profited by it. As I lay on
my bed in great pain from the wrench in getting there alone--I tried to
analyse things. The nervous excitement in which she always plunges me
must have come to the culminating point. The only thing I was glad about
was that I had not attempted to ask forgiveness, or to palliate my
conduct. If I had done so she would undoubtedly have walked straight out
of the hotel--but having just had the sense to leave her to think for a
while--perhaps--?

Well--I was sitting in my chair--feeling some kind of numb
anguish--which I suppose those going to be hanged experience, when
Burton brought in my tea--and I heard no sound of clicking next door--I
asked him as naturally as I could if Miss Sharp had gone--.

"Yes, Sir Nicholas," he answered, and the shock, even though it was
expected, was so great that for a second I closed my eye.

She had left a note, he further added,--putting the envelope down on the
table beside the tray--.

I made myself light a cigarette and not open it, and I made myself say
casually--

"I am afraid she feels her brother's death dreadfully, Burton!"

"The poor young lady, Sir Nicholas!--She must have kept up brave like
all the time this morning, and then after lunch when I come in--while
you were resting, Sir--it got too much for her, I expect, sittin'
alone--for she was sobbin' like to break her heart--as I opened the
door. She looked that forlorn and huddled up--give you my word, Sir
Nicholas--I was near blubberin' myself."

"I am so awfully sorry--What did you do, Burton?"

"I said, '--Let me bring you a nice cup of tea, Miss.'--It is always
best to bring ladies tea when they are upset, Sir Nicholas, as you may
know--She thanked me sweet like, as she always does--and I made so bold
as to say how s