"Don't think I do not know how you will suffer at first; but you would have suffered more if I had stayed. While I am away from you, think of your life as entirely your own; do not hesitate to go to Suzee, if you wish. I feel somehow that Fate has designed you for me, not for her, and that she will not hold you for long, but that, whatever happens, you will always remember
"VIOLA."
* * * * *
I crushed this letter in my hand in a fury of rage when I had read it, and threw it from me. Anger against her, red anger in which I could have killed her, if I could in those moments have followed and found her, swept over me.
I looked round the room mechanically. She had dressed in the clothes she had been wearing yesterday apparently, and taken one small handbag, for I missed that from where it had stood on a chest of drawers.
Her other luggage was there undisturbed. I saw her evening and other dresses hanging in the half-open wardrobe opposite me.
The only thing that had gone from the toilet-table was the little frame with my photo in it.
A sickening sense of loss, of despair came over me, mingling with the savage anger and hatred surging within me.
After a time I rose from my chair and began to dress.
I had made up my mind as to my own actions. To stay here without Viola, where the whole place spoke to me of her, was impossible. As soon as I could get everything packed I would go up to London and stay at my club. She would not come back.