And this is what David wrote:
My Dear One—Can it be that some newly conceived lie has kept you from sending for me? I only ask your full inquiry: I stand or fall by that. But spare me this silence; for I am eating my heart out.
Yours,
David.
The messenger tripped back. “No answer, sir,” she said, and the words smote David such a blow that his cheek blanched, while the girl wondered.
“To whom did you hand my note?” he managed to ask.
“To Miss Violet, sir.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Gave it to her myself.”
“And she read it?”
“Yes, sir.”