’This I have to say, Madam, that I cannot bear to be kept at this distance from you under the same roof.
’Under the same roof, Sir!—How came you——
’Hear me out, Madam—[letting go her trembling hands, and snatching them back again with an eagerness that made her start]—I have a thousand things to say, to talk of, relating to our present and future prospects; but when I want to open my whole soul to you, you are always contriving to keep me at a distance. You make me inconsistent with myself. Your heart is set upon delays. You must have views that you will not own. Tell me, Madam, I conjure you to tell me, this moment, without subterfuge or reserve, in what light am I to appear to you in future? I cannot bear this distance. The suspense you hold me in I cannot bear.
’In what light, Mr. Lovelace! [visibly terrified.] In no bad light, I hope.—Pray, Mr. Lovelace, do not grasp my hands so hard [endeavouring to withdraw them.] Pray let me go.—
’You hate me, Madam—
’I hate nobody, Sir—
’You hate me, Madam, repeated I.
’Instigated and resolved, as I came up, I wanted some new provocation. The devil indeed, as soon as my angel made her appearance, crept out of my heart; but he had left the door open, and was no farther off than my elbow.
’You come up in no good temper, I see, Mr. Lovelace.—But pray be not violent—I have done you no hurt.—Pray be not violent—
’Sweet creature! and I clasped one arm about her, holding one hand in my other.—You have done me no hurt.—I could have devoured her—but restraining myself—You have done me the greatest hurt!—In what have I deserved the distance you keep me at?—I knew not what to say.
’She struggled to disengage herself.—Pray, Mr. Lovelace, let me withdraw. I know not why this is. I know not what I have done to offend you. I see you are come with a design to quarrel with me. If you would not terrify me by the ill humour you are in, permit me to withdraw. I will hear all you have to say another time—to-morrow morning, as I sent you word.—But indeed you frighten me—I beseech you, if you have any value for me, permit me to withdraw.
’Night, mid-night, is necessary, Belford. Surprise, terror, must be necessary to the ultimate trial of this charming creature, say the women below what they will. I could not hold my purposes. This was not the first time that I had intended to try if she could forgive.
’I kissed her hand with a fervour, as if I would have left my lips upon it.—Withdraw, then, dearest, and ever-dear creature. Indeed I entered in a very ill humour. I cannot bear the distance at which you so causelessly keep me. Withdraw, Madam, since it is your will to withdraw; and judge me generously; judge me but as I deserve to be judged; and let me hope to meet you to-morrow morning early in such a temper as becomes our present situation, and my future hopes.