Only the fear
of appearing ridiculous to Mrs. Pollock kept her from turning back
to reclaim it. She could not explain this sudden, almost frantic
impulse,--she did not attempt to account for it. Somehow she sensed
that it had to do with the look in Thane's eyes,--but it was all
so vague and intangible that even the suggestion did not take the
form of thought.
In this curt little note she had said:
DEAR DAVID:
I hereby acknowledge receipt of your cheque No. 372 for two hundred
and fifty dollars, but as I have tried to make you understand
before, it is not only an unnecessary but a most unwelcome bit of
paper. You are perfectly well aware that my grandfather's estate
has been settled and, as I have informed you time and again, your
obligation to him no longer exists. You may have owed something
to him, but you owe nothing to me. If I were to follow my impulse
I should tear up this cheque of yours. It would be useless to return
it to you, for you would only send it back to me, as you did with
the first two cheques that came last winter. I want you to understand
that I do not accept this money as my own. If it is any satisfaction
to you to know that I give it away,--no matter how,--you are welcome
to all the consolation you may get out of it.
Yours truly,
ALIX CROWN.
P.S.--I have advised your mother to go to Philadelphia whenever
you are ready for her to come.
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