It had no beginning and thus it ran: Since after everything I wake to find you have chosen to leave me you can abide by your decision.

I will not follow you or ever seek to bring you back.

It is useless to ask you if you meant that you forgave me--because your going proves that you really have not--so make what you please of your life as I shall make what I please of mine.
Michael Arranstoun.
When she put the paper back again, glittering tears gathered and rolled in shining drops down her cheeks.
He had meant that last paragraph then, and he meant it now evidently, since he knew that she was pledged to marry Henry when she should be free, and had made no protest.

Perhaps he was glad and intended to marry Miss Daisy van der Horn! Her tears dried suddenly--and her cheeks burned.

She must think this situation out, and not just drift.