After Sam left Chicago
he finally divorced his wife and married an actress from the vaudeville
stage and after losing two-thirds of his fortune in an effort to capture
control of a southern railroad, went to England and, coached by the
actress wife, developed into an English country gentleman.
And Sam was a man sick. Day after day he went on drinking more and more
heavily, playing for bigger and bigger stakes, allowing himself less and
less thought of himself. One day he received a long letter from John
Telfer telling of the sudden death of Mary Underwood and berating him for
his neglect of her.
"She was ill for a year and without an income," wrote Telfer. Sam noticed
that the man's hand had begun to tremble. "She lied to me and told me you
had sent her money, but now that she is dead I find that though she wrote
you she got no answer. Her old aunt told me."
Sam put the letter into his pocket and going into one of his clubs began
drinking with a crowd of men he found idling there. He had paid little
attention to his correspondence for months. No doubt the letter from Mary
had been received by his secretary and thrown aside with the letters of
thousands of other women, begging letters, amorous letters, letters
directed at him because of his wealth and the prominence given his
exploits by the newspapers.
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