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I do not know how I passed that awful night. I have a dim recollection of sitting up in hopeless dejection, on the sofa, conscious only of my intense longing for daylight. I could do nothing while darkness reigned; in fact I was absolutely helpless. I could only hope that the darkness which rendered me powerless to act, would have the same effect upon my husband. I could understand nothing. I seemed to be dazed. Not an idea of the truth dawned upon me. Our relations had been so pleasant; I was just about to attain the object of my visit to America, when, in the most inexplicable manner, my husband had left me. As I look back now I wonder how I could have been so dense. It appears to me now that the veriest blockhead could have grasped the situation.

At seven o'clock I sent for the hotel clerk, and asked him if he could tell me anything about my