“What if I should bring her back to you, Theo?”
He flashed dark-circled eyes toward her.
“Could you?” he asked drearily.
“I think so, perhaps. Suppose you write her a little note, and then––”
“Ring the bell for writing material quickly.”
He had all his old-time eagerness. He was partly sitting up, and Molly placed another pillow under his head.
Theodore wrote steadily for some moments. Then he addressed an envelope to “Jinnie Grandoken,” placed the letter in it, and fastened down the flap.
“You won’t mind?” he asked wearily, handing it to Molly and sinking back.
Molly took the letter, and with a few more words, went out. Once at home in her bedroom, she sat down, breathing deeply. With a hearty good will she could have torn the letter into shreds, but instead she ripped open the envelope and read it.
After she had finished, she let the paper flutter from her hand and sat thinking for a long time. Then, sighing, she got up and tucked the letter inside her dress.