"You must always remember that I want you to have the best, and to know the best. And if some happy man who loves you and is worthy can win you, and fill your dear life with the golden joy of loving—why, God knows, I wouldn't be such a dog in the manger, as to begrudge you that joy, or to wish to stand between.
"So don't give me a thought, if it makes you happier to forget me. Only—if you do remember me sometimes—remember that I have loved you, always, from the very first, with a love which would have gladly lived for you, had that been possible; but, not being possible, gladly dies for you, that you—at last—may have the best.
"And so, good-bye, my wife.
"Yours ever,
"David Rivers."
[CHAPTER XXXVII]
"GOOD-NIGHT, DAVID"
When Diana had finished reading David's letter, she folded it, replaced it in the envelope; rose, laid aside her uniform, slipping on a grey cashmere wrapper, with soft white silk frills at neck and wrists.
Then she passed down the stone corridor, and quietly entered the darkened room where David was lying.
A screen was drawn partly round the bed.