"Richard was not sorry to lose me. He only loves boys and men.
Something tells me I shall never see Raynham again. He was dressed in
blue. He said Good-bye, Clare, and kissed me on the cheek. Richard
never kisses me on the mouth. He did not know I went to his bed and
kissed him while he was asleep. He sleeps with one arm under his head,
and the other out on the bed. I moved away a bit of his hair that was
over his eyes. I wanted to cut it. I have one piece. I do not let
anybody see I am unhappy, not even mama. She says I want iron. I am
sure I do not. I like to write my name. Clare Doria Forey. Richard's
is Richard Doria Feverel."

His breast rose convulsively. Clare Doria Forey! He knew the music of
that name. He had heard it somewhere. It sounded faint and mellow now
behind the hills of death.

He could not read for tears. It was midnight. The hour seemed to belong
to her. The awful stillness and the darkness were Clare's. Clare's
voice clear and cold from the grave possessed it.

Painfully, with blinded eyes, he looked over the breathless pages. She
spoke of his marriage, and her finding the ring.

"I knew it was his. I knew he was going to be married that morning. I
saw him stand by the altar when they laughed at breakfast. His wife must
be so beautiful! Richard's wife! Perhaps he will love me better now he
is married. Mama says they must be separated. That is shameful. If I
can help him I will. I pray so that he may be happy. I hope God hears
poor sinners' prayers. I am very sinful. Nobody knows it as I do. They
say I am good, but I know. When I look on the ground I am not looking
after earthworms, as he said. Oh, do forgive me, God!"