“Push it under the door,” said the girl resignedly.
He obeyed. Polly took the envelope, summoned up all her spirit, and opened it. It contained one penciled line and the signature:—
Good-bye. All my heart goes with you forever.
L. P.
Something fluttered from the envelope to her feet. She stooped and picked it up. It was the tiniest and most delicate of orchids, purple, with a glow of gold at its heart. To her inflamed pride, it seemed the final insult that he should send such a message and such a reminder, without a word of explanation or plea for pardon. Pardon she never would have granted, but at least he might have had the grace of shame.
“Have you read it?” asked the patient voice from without.
“Yes. There is no answer.”
“Dr. Pruyn said there wouldn’t be.”
“Then why are you waiting?”
“To see you.”