"At rest!" said she. "How sweet it must be to rest after labours such as yours! Though you and I are two, Mr. Robinson, who was once one, still I hear of you, and—sometimes think of you."
"I am surprised that you should turn your thoughts to anything so insignificant," he replied.
"Ah! that is so like you. You are so scornful, and so proud,—and never so proud as when pretending to be humble. I sometimes think that it is better that you and I are two, because you are so proud. What could a poor girl like me have done to satisfy you?"
False and cruel that she was! 'Tis thus that the basilisk charms the poor bird that falls a victim into its jaws.
"It is better that we should have parted," said he. "Though I still love you with my whole heart, I know that it is better."
"Oh, Mr. Robinson!"
"And I would that your nuptials with that man in Aldersgate Street were already celebrated."
"Oh, you cruel, heartless man!"
"For then I should be able to rest. If you were once another's, I should then know—"
"You would know what, Mr. Robinson?"