ow it is all impossible, and I ought to
have seen it before, but I was so very fond of my little baby and
I never dreamt it would be like this. But you see they won't let me
keep my little baby and now I have made things too terrible for
you. So I see the only thing to do is to take myself out of it all
and take my little baby with me. Soon I shall explain things to God
and then I think it will be quite all right. Dear Mr. Sabre, when I
explain things to God, I shall tell him how wonderful you have been
to me. My heart is filled with gratitude to you. I cannot express
it; but I shall tell God when I explain everything to him; and my
one hope is that after I have been punished I shall be allowed to
meet you again, and thank you--there, where everything will be
understood.

He turned over.

I feel I ought to tell you now, before I leave this world, what I
never was able to tell you or any one. The father of my little baby
was Harold Twyning who used to be in your office. We had been
secretly engaged a very, very long time and then he was in an
officers' training camp at Bournemouth where I was, and I don't
think I quite understood. We were going to be married and then he
had to go suddenly, and then he was afraid to tell his father and
then this happened and he was more afraid. So that was how it all
was. I do want you, please, to tell Harold that I quite I forgive
him, only I can't quite write to him. And dear Mr. Sabre, I do
trust you to be with Harold what you have always been with me and
with everybody--gentle, and understanding things. And I shall tell
the Perches, too, about you, and Mr. Fargus. Good-by and may God
bless and reward you for ever and ever,

Effie.

II

He shouted again, "Ha!" He cried again, "Into my hands! Into my hands!"

He abandoned himself to a rather horrible ecstasy of hate and passion.
His face became rather horrible to see. His face became purple and
black and knotted, and the veins on his forehead black. He cried aloud,
"Harold! Harold! Twyning! Twyning!" He rather horribly mimicked Twyning.
"Harold's such a good boy! Harold's such a good, Christian, model boy!
Harold's never said a bad word or had a bad thought. Harold's such a
good boy." He cried out: "Harold's such a blackguard! Harold's such a
blackguard! A blackguard and the son of a vile, infam