dead now, and soulless. He wanted to bury it out of his sight.
One night as he lay awake, staring into the dark, it occurred to him that the ring might perform a service for him. He had been wondering in what words he could most sparingly offer Rebecca her release. The ring could help him, he believed. He got up, and then and there sat down at his desk, and wrote a note to Rebecca.
This is what it said:
Dear Rebecca:
I am sending you an engagement ring because you never had one. Most girls are engaged before they are married, but it's the other way round with you. I am asking you to be engaged after you are married. And just as most girls' engagements are followed by marriage, yours, Rebecca, is to be followed by friendship. The fortunes of a sailor are uncertain always, but especially in time of war. I have been thinking of getting into the war myself, and before doing it, it seems only fair to relieve you of all further obligations to me. It isn't right that you should be troubled all your life by the thought of your duty to such a stranger as I am to you. This ring I am sending wipes out our marriage, Rebecca.
I am proud you are using my name, but if you see fit not to use it in the future, it will be all right. The thought that you used it even for a little while will help me always to keep it clean.
I'm sorry, but it won't be very convenient for me ever to see you again—so don't be afraid I'll be turning up some day. I won't. I think, Rebecca, there is something about "on the grounds of desertion" that makes things easy for a girl, left by a man as I am leaving you.
Good-by, Rebecca, and this time, forever.
