"He'll do if you're careful," said Dr.Abrams, and suddenly became once more the curious, dirty, sensual little creature that he had been at first.Her only contact with the outer world had been her visits to the neighbouring streets for necessaries and one journey to the bank (the nearest branch was in Oxford Street) to settle about her money.But now, with the doctor's words, the rest of the world came back to her.She remembered Paul.She was horrified to realise that during these days she had entirely forgotten him.He, of course could not write to her because he did not know her address.When she saw that Martin was quietly sleeping she sat down and wrote the following letter:
13A LYNTON STREET, KING'S CROSS, April 28th, 1912.
MY DEAR PAUL,--I have been very wrong indeed not to write to you before this.It's only of a piece with all my other bad behaviour to you, and it's very late now to saw that I am ashamed.I will tell you the truth, which is that on the day I left you I had received a letter telling me that the friend of whom I have often told you was in England, very ill, and with no one to care for him.I had to go.
I don't know whether it was right or wrong--wrong I suppose--but Ialways knew that if he ever wanted me I SHOULD go.I've always been truthful to you about that.When I came here I found that he was in horrible lodgings, very ill indeed, and with no one to look after him.I HAD to stay, and now for a week he has been between life and death.He had pneumonia some weeks ago and went out too soon.His heart also is bad.I believe now he can get well if great care is taken.
Dear Paul, I don't know what to say to you.I have a bedroom in this house and every one is very kind to me, but you will think me very wicked.I can't help it.I can't come back to you and Grace.Perhaps later when he is quite well I shall be able to, but I don't think so.You don't need me; I have never been satisfactory to you, only a worry.Grace will never be able to live with me again, and I can't stay in Skeaton any more after Uncle Mathew's death.It has all been a wretched mistake, Paul, our marriage, hasn't it? It was my fault entirely.I shouldn't have married you when I knew that I would always love Martin.I thought then that I should be able to make you happy.If now I felt that I could I would come back at once, but you know as well as I do that, after this, we shall never be happy together again.I blame myself so much but I can't act differently.