I am going to stay for a few nights, at any rate, with one of the girls at the theatre, who I know wants some one to share her tiny flat with her.

Afterwards, I shall see.
Don't throw this letter in the fire and don't think me ungrateful.

I shall never forget what you did for me.

How could I?
I will send you my address as soon as I am sure of it, or you can always write me to the theatre.
Good-bye, dear Leonard, YOUR SISTER BEATRICE.
Tavernake looked from the sheet of notepaper out across the gray square.
He knew that he was very angry, angry though he deliberately folded the letter up and placed it in his pocket, angry though he took off his overcoat and hung it up with his usual care; but his anger was with himself.

He had blundered badly.