To clasp my waist! Judge you so poorly of me
As think I’ll suffer this? My honor, sir!
(She breaks from him, quitting her seat.)
I’m glad you’ve forced me to respect myself:
You’ll find that I can do so.
Clif. There was a time I held your hand unchid;
There was a time I might have clasped your waist:
I had forgot that time was past and gone.
I pray you, pardon me.
Jul. (Softened.) I do so, Clifford.