I have lived unto myself, with no man accountable, and I die unto myself, with no man accountable; and this is the truth with my last breath.
"Lot Gordon." This last Lot folded neatly and addressed it "To my fellow-townsmen," and laid it in a conspicuous place on his desk, and then wrote on another sheet and put that in his pocket.

Then he opened a drawer of the desk, and took out all the trinkets which he had offered Madelon, in their pretty cases, and with them in his hands crept out of the room, and up-stairs, into the chamber which he had caused to be decked out so newly and grandly when he had thought to marry her.
There was a great carven chest in a corner of the room, which Lot unlocked, and took from thence all those rich fabrics which he had bought for Madelon.

And then he laid them all--the silken stuffs and plumes and fine linens and jewels--out on the great bed, under the grand canopy, and placed on the top the sheet of paper on which he had last written, "For Madelon Gordon." Margaret Bean had listened when Lot climbed the stairs.

She heard him when he came down again, entered his library, and shut the door.

She waited a long time.