'Wilt thou then forgive me nevermore, Dorothy?', he said humbly.
'For what, Mr. Scuclamore?'
'I mean for offending thee with rude words.'
'Truly I have forgotten them.'
'Then shall we be friends?'
'Nay, that follows not.'
'What quarrel then hast thou with me?'
'I have no quarrel with thee; yet is there one thing I cannot forgive thee.'
'And what is that, cousin? Believe me I know not. I need but to know, and I will humble myself.'
'That would serve nothing, for how should I forgive thee for being unworthy? For such thing there is no forgiveness. Cease thou to be unworthy, and then is there nothing to forgive. I were an unfriendly friend, Rowland, did I befriend the man who befriendeth not himself.'