ead, and you are
punished. The world forgives, if it does not forget. You are
young enough to live everything down. Your part in the war
will help you in more ways than one. You were always fond of
writing. You have now enough to write about for a literary
lifetime. You must make a new name for yourself. You must
Harry, and you will!

"I suppose you know that my aunt, Lady Melrose, died some
years ago? She was the best friend I had in the world, and it
is thanks to her that I am living my own life now in the one
way after my own heart. This is a new block of flats, one of
those where they do everything for you; and though mine is
tiny, it is more than all I shall ever want. One does just
exactly what one likes--and you must blame that habit for all
that is least conventional in what I have said. Yet I should
like you to understand why it is that I have said so much,
and, indeed, left nothing unsaid. It is because I want never
to have to say or hear another word about _anything_ that is
past and over. You may answer that I run no risk!
Nevertheless, if you did care to come and see me some day as
an old friend, we might find one or two new points of
contact, for I am rather trying to write myself! You might
almost guess as much from this letter; it is long enough for
anything; but, Harry, if it makes you realize that one of
your oldest friends is glad to have seen you, and will be
gladder still to see you again, and to talk of anything and
everything _except the past_, I shall cease to be ashamed
even of its length!

"And so good-by for the present from

"____"

I omit her name and nothing else. Did I not say in the beginning that
it should never be sullied by association with mine? And yet--and
yet--even as I write I have a hope in my heart of hearts which is not
quite consistent with that sentiment. It is as faint a hope as man
ever had, and yet its audacity makes the pen tremble in my fingers.
But, if it be ever realized, I shall owe more than I could deserve in
a century of atonement to one who atoned more nobly than I ever can.
And to think that to the end I never heard one word of it from
Raffles!

THE END

* * * * *

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Thief in the Night, by E. W. Hornung

*** END OF TH