"Dear Pam,"--she began abruptly--"I am going away with Victor
Joyselle. I wonder if you will blame me? In case you do, here is my only
defence. I hate my present life, I am miserable without Joyselle, and he
is miserable without me. My mother, with whom I have been on fairly
decent terms since Tommy has been ill, is hopeless. Gerald Carron shot
himself to-day, and mother, just, I honestly believe, to indulge her own
taste for sentimental scenes, turned on me about him and pretended to
believe a story he told her just before I left Pont Street--that I was
Joyselle's mistress, in fact. If she believed the story I would forgive
her, though it is not true, but I cannot forgive the kind of mind that
can amuse itself with such vulgar melodrama. I have always disliked my
mother, and now I simply cannot bear her any longer.
"And I have no other ties except Tommy. Tommy, to whom I shall write
before long, is nearly well. He will be forbidden to come to see me, but
he will come, and I do not think it will hurt him.
"As to Theo, Pam, I am deeply grieved. He is a remarkably nice young
man, but I cannot marry him, and the mere fact of his father's loving me
will not much hurt him.
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