"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