Tell Jim I love him. He will not remember his mother, but tell him she never forgot him. Oh, Bob, I have paid dearly for my folly. Please, please do not think too hardly of me. I am going now. If this letter ever reaches you, do not fret at my passing. All I ask of you is that you will remember only that I love you both.
Your unhappy,
Ruth.
I sat for a long time staring down at the faded writing whilst the candle guttered in Kitty's hand. So much was hinted at. So much was left unanswered. I felt dazed and there was a lump in my throat. At last I looked up and in a flicker of lightning saw the bars of the window etched black against the storm. 'This was my mother's room, wasn't it?'
She nodded.
I looked down at the letter again. I must have sat staring at it for quite a time. I came out of my daze to find the girl tugging to pull her wrist free of my hand. She was shivering violently. The palm of my hand was moist on her flesh, and my body was bathed in a cold sweat. 'I must go,' she whispered frantically.
'No,' I said. And then I added quickly, 'I can't sleep here. Not in my mother's room.'
'You must,' she said. 'It'd look queer if you didn't.'
'I can't.' The way I said it sounded like a groan. I was afraid she'd go away and leave me. I didn't want to be left alone. 'She was fond of you, wasn't she?' I said.
'I don't know,' she replied. 'I thought so. But I was frightened. She looked at me so queerly sometimes. But she was kind to me — before.'