I was thunderstruck. I was rooted to the spot. I had been carefully
preparing my mind for every thing that I supposed likely to happen, but
this event had not entered into my calculations. I roused myself in a
partial degree, and walked away without uttering a word.
I had not gone far before I perceived one of the workmen following me,
who put into my hands a billet. The contents were these:--
"MR. WILLIAMS,
"Let me see you no more. I have a right at least to expect your
compliance with this requisition; and, upon that condition, I pardon the
enormous impropriety and guilt with which you have conducted yourself to
me and my family.
"LAURA DENISON."
The sensations with which I read these few lines are indescribable. I
found in them a dreadful confirmation of the calamity that on all sides
invaded me. But what I felt most was the unmoved coldness with which
they appeared to be written. This coldness from Laura, my comforter, my
friend, my mother! To dismiss, to cast me off for ever, without one
thought of compunction!
I determined however, in spite of her requisition, and in spite of her
coldness, to have an explanation with her.
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