“No! not immediately, not until long afterwards, not until it would hurt no one. They were in the writing-table drawer, the letters, in an elastic band. She was not tidy as a rule with papers, but these were tidy. The diary was bound in soft grey leather, and there were a few rough notes; loose, on MS. paper. You know all that happened there; the excitement was intense. How could I bear her papers, his letters, her notes to fall into strange hands. I was doing what she would wish, I knew I was carrying out her wishes. The day she ... she died I gathered them all together, slipped them into my greatcoat pocket; the car was at the door. I hurried away as if I had been a thief, the thief you are thinking me.” “Got home quickly, gloated over them all that evening.” “I swear to you, I swear to you I have never opened the packet. I have never looked at them. I made one parcel of them all, of the letters, diary, notes; wrapped them all together in brown paper, tied it up with string, sealed it. “You’ve got it still!” I was in high excitement, all my pulses throbbing, face flushed, hands hot, breathless. “In the safe at my bank. I took it there the next morning.” “You are going to give me the packet?” “But of course.” He seemed suddenly to recollect that I was an invalid, that he was supposed to be my doctor. “I say, all this excitement is very bad for you. Your sister will turn me out again. Can’t you lie down, get quiet,—you’ve jumped from 90 to 112.” His hand was on my pulse again. I knew I was going beyond my tether and cursed my weakness. “You won’t change your mind!” I was lying on my back now, quite still, trying to quiet myself as he had told me. “Promise!” “I’ll get the packet in the morning, as soon as the bank is open, and come straight on here with it. You must find some place to put it. Where you can see it, know it’s there all the time. But you mustn’t open it, you must get stronger first. You know you can’t use it yet.” “Yes, I can.” “It would be very wrong. You wouldn’t do it well.” “I’m sick of being ordered about.” But I could barely move and breathing was becoming difficult to me, I had a sense of faintness, suffocation, the room grew dark. He opened the door and called nurse. Ella came in with her. I was conscious of that. “What does she have when she is like this? Smelling salts, brandy?” Nurse began to fan me; my cheeks were very flushed. Ella opened the windows, wide, quietly; the scent of the gorse came in. I did not want to speak, only to be able to breathe. Nurse telegraphed him an enquiring glance. Strychnine? her dumb lips asked. He shook his head. “Oxygen. Have you got a cylinder of oxygen in the house?” He took the pillows from under my head.