“I shall take measures,” he said quietly. “I shall do everything—anything in my power. I shall even expose myself to the risk of insult, for her sake; only let it soften her. After I have done it, ask her, not before, to think mercifully of me.”
He was going.
“Stay, Mr. Longcluse, just a moment. I don't know what I am to say to you; I am so much obliged. And yet how can I undertake that anything you do may affect other people as you wish?”
“Yes, of course you are right; I am willing to take my chance of that. Only, dear Lady May, will you write to her? All I plead for—and it is the last time I shall sue to her for anything—is that my folly may be forgotten, and I restored to the humble privileges of an acquaintance.”
“But do you really wish me to write? I'll take an opportunity of speaking to her. Would not that be less formal?”
“Perhaps so; but, forgive me, it would not answer. I beg of you to write.”
“But why do you prefer my writing?”
“Because I shall then read her answer.”
“Then I must tell her that you are to read her reply.”
“Certainly, dear Lady May; I meant nothing else.”