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I met and chatted with him a few minutes before Miss Harding said the words which have made me the most miserable of human beings.
This thing is past my solving. I only know that whatever she has done or whatever she may do I love her and ever shall love her.
ENTRY NO. XXIII
A FEW CLOSING CONFESSIONS
On my arrival in London I lost no time in presenting myself to Mr. Harding's bankers. I also presented a letter of introduction from that gentleman's private secretary, and I presume these London financiers called a meeting of the board of directors to consider this weighty matter. I waited for hours, and was finally ushered into a private office. It was as dingy and inadequate as are most London offices, and I was properly impressed with its age, traditions and smells.
An old gentleman looked at me for a minute or two, and then took my letter of introduction from his desk. He read it carefully again, wiped his glasses and asked me if I were John Henry Smith. I assured him that to the best of my knowledge and belief I was.
He looked doubtfully at me, hesitated as if determined to make no mistake, sighed and then informed me that Mr. Harding had not left his address in their care. I was tempted to express the opinion that Mr. Harding showed rare judgment in declining to leave it with them, since it doubtless would require an action at law to recover it in the event he should have use for it, but I thanked the aged man for all that they had done for me, and emerged from this gloomy den into the street.
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This reed had broken. I never had much faith in it.