I brushed past him and entered the study.
Upon my writing-table there lay a note addressed to me.
I recognized the handwriting in an instant, and with trembling fingers tore open the envelope.
What I read there staggered me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
IN FULL CRY
The amazing letter which I held in my nerveless fingers had been hurriedly scribbled on a piece of my wife’s own notepaper, and read—
“Dear Owen—I feel that our marriage was an entire mistake. I have grossly deceived you, and I dare not hope ever for your forgiveness, nor dare I face you to answer your questions. I know that you love me dearly, as I, too, have loved you; yet, for your own sake—and perhaps for mine also—it is far best that we should keep apart.