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of paper she wrote:

I’m married to Mr. Royall. I’ll always remember you.

Charity.

The last words were not in the least what she had meant to write; they had flowed from her pen irresistibly. She had not had the strength to complete her sacrifice; but, after all, what did it matter? Now that there was no chance of ever seeing Harney again, why should she not tell him the truth?

When she had put the letter in the box she went out into the busy sunlit street and began to walk to the hotel. Behind the plateglass windows of the department stores she noticed the tempting display of dresses and dress-materials that had fired her imagination on the day when she and Harney had looked in at them together. They reminded her of Mr. Royall’s injunction to go out and buy all she needed. She looked down at her shabby dress, and wondered what she should say when he saw her coming back empty-handed. As she drew near the hotel she saw him waiting on the doorstep, and her heart began to beat with apprehension.

He nodded and waved his hand at her approach, and they walked through the hall and went upstairs to collect their possessions, so that Mr. Royall might give up the key of the room when they went down again for their midday dinner. In the bedroom, while she was thrusting back into the satchel the few things she had brought away with her, she suddenly felt that his eyes were on her and that he was going to speak. She stood still, her half-folded nightgown in her hand, while the blood rushed up to her drawn cheeks.

“Well, did you rig yourself out handsomely? I haven’t seen any bundles round,” he said jocosely.

“Oh, I’d rather let Ally Hawes make the few things I want,” she answered.

“That so?” He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and his eyebrows projected in a scowl. Then his face grew friendly again. “Well, I wanted you to go back looking stylisher than any of them; but I guess you’re right. You’re a good girl, Charity.”

Their eyes met, and something rose in his that she had never seen there: a look that made her feel ashamed and yet secure.

“I guess you’re good, too,” she said, shyly and quickly. He smiled without answering, and they went out of the room together and dropped down to the hall in the glittering lift.

Late that evening, in the cold autumn moonlight, they drove up to the door of the red house.

Colophon The Standard Ebooks logo.

Summer
was published in 1917 by
Edith Wharton.

This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Zoey Leigh Peterson,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2006 by
Meredith Ricker, John Hamm, and David Widger
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans available at the
HathiTrust Digital Library.

The cover page is adapted from
Interiør med et rødt sjal,
a painting completed in 1913 by
Peter Ilsted.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in 2014 and 2009 by
The League of Moveable Type.

The first edition of this ebook was released on
January 2, 2021, 11:30 p.m.
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history, or download it for different ereading systems at
standardebooks.org/ebooks/edith-wharton/summer.

The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at standardebooks.org.

Uncopyright

May you do good and not evil.
May you find forgiveness for yourself and forgive others.
May you share freely, never taking more than you give.

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