"Ah! That is what we call poetry. Poetry is very pretty, and in saying this as you do, you make yourself divine. But to be dashed over the cliffs and broken on the rocks;—in prose it is not so well."
"Sir, will you allow me to pass on while you remain; or will you let me rest here, while you return alone?"
"No, Julie; not so. I have found you with too much difficulty. In London, you see, I could not find you. Here, for a minute, you must listen to me. Do you not know, Julie, that your character is in my hands?"
"In your hands? No;—never; thank God, never. But what if it were?"
"Only this,—that I am forced to play the only game that you leave open to me. Chance brought you and me together in such a way that nothing but marriage can be beneficial to either of us;—and I swore to Lord Ongar that it should be so. I mean that it shall be so,—or that you shall be punished for your misconduct to him and to me."
"You are both insolent and false. But listen to me, since you are here and I cannot avoid you. I know what your threats mean."
"I have never threatened you. I have promised you my aid, but have used no threats."
"Not when you tell me that I shall be punished? But to avoid no punishment, if any be in your power, will I ever willingly place myself in your company. You may write of me what papers you please, and repeat of me whatever stories you may choose to fabricate, but you will not frighten me into compliance by doing so. I have, at any rate, spirit enough to resist such attempts as that."
"As you are living at present, you are alone in the world!"
"And I am content to remain alone."