I might have said less, but I ached to say more to the insolent.
"'Enough, madam,' she gasped, 'stop.' And then said, more to herself than to me, 'I could give heaven for him,'-- the rest I rather guessed from the motion of her lips than from any sound,--'but I cannot ask him to give the world for me.' "'Will you write the letter ?' I asked.
"'No.'-- She said the word with evident effort, and then, still more slowly, 'I will give you a message.

Say "I implore you never to write me again,--to forget me.

I beseech of you not to try me by any farther appeals, as I shall but return them unopened."' I wrote down the words as she spoke them.

'This is well,' I said when she finished; 'but it is not enough.

I must have the letter.' "'The letter ?' she said.