The last sheet of Mr. Britling's manuscript may be more conveniently given in fac-simile than described.
§ 11
He sighed.
He looked at the scattered papers, and thought of the letter they were to have made.
His fatigue spoke first.
"Perhaps after all I'd better just send the fiddle...."
He rested his cheeks between his hands, and remained so for a long time. His eyes stared unseeingly. His thoughts wandered and spread and faded. At length he recalled his mind to that last idea. "Just send the fiddle—without a word."
"No. I must write to them plainly.