Surely never did a more helpless innocent confront such a serious
problem. I was a woman, and for more than a year I had been a wife, but
I had no more experience of the hard facts of material existence than a
child.
I thought first of the bank-book which my father had sent me with
authority to draw on his account. But it was then nine o'clock, the
banks were closed for the day, and I knew enough of the world to see
that if I attempted to cash a cheque in the morning my whereabouts would
he traced. That must never happen, I must hide myself from everybody;
therefore my bank-book was useless.
"Quite useless," I thought, throwing it aside like so much waste paper.
I thought next of my jewels. But there I encountered a similar
difficulty. The jewels which were really mine, having been bought by
myself, had been gambled away by my husband at Monte Carlo. What
remained were the family jewels which had come to me as Lady Raa; but
that was a name I was never more to bear, a person I was never more to
think about, so I could not permit myself to take anything that belonged
to her.
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