Finally he wrote to her. The letter took him hours to write, but he flattered himself that it was very discreet; it implied nothing and demanded nothing. Dear Cynthia: I had a talk with Norry Parker recently that has troubled me a great deal. He said that you seemed both unwell and unhappy, and he felt that I was in some way responsible for your depression. Of course, we both know how ingenuous and romantic Norry is; he can find tragedy in a cut finger. I recognize that fact, but what he told me has given me no end of worry just the same. Won't you please write to me just what is wrong--if anything really is and if I have anything to do with it. I shall continue to worry until I get your letter. Most sincerely, HUGH. Weeks went by and no answer came. Hugh's confusion increased. He thought of writing her another letter, but pride and common sense forbade. Then her letter came, and all of his props were kicked suddenly from under him. Oh my dear, my dear [she wrote], I swore that I wouldn't answer your letter--and here I am doing it. I've fought and fought, and fought until I can't fight any longer; I've held out as long as I can. Oh, Hugh my dearest, I love you. I can't help it--I do, I do. I've tried so hard not to--and when I found that I couldn't help it I swore that I would never let you know--because I knew that you didn't love me and that I am bad for you. I thought I loved you enough to give you up--and I might have succeeded if you hadn't written to me. Oh, Hugh dearest, I nearly fainted when I saw your letter. I hardly dared open it--I just looked and looked at your beloved handwriting. I cried when I did read it. I thought of the letters you used to write to me--and this one was so different--so cold and impersonal. It hurt me dreadfully. I said that I wouldn't answer it--I swore that I wouldn't. And then I read your old letters--I've kept every one of them--and looked at your picture--and to-night you just seemed to be here--I could see your sweet smile and feel your dear arms around me--and Hugh, my darling, I had to write--I _had_ to. My pride is all gone. I can't think any more. You are all that matters. Oh, Hugh dearest, I love you so damned hard. CYNTHIA. Two hours after the letter arrived it was followed by a telegram: Don't pay any attention to my letter. I was crazy when I wrote it.