I hate myself! But I won't be insulted. Indeed I won't, for all this.
LETTER XXXI
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE TUESDAY, MAY 16.
I think once more we seem to be in a kind of train; but through a storm. I will give you the particulars.
I heard him in the dining-room at five in the morning. I had rested very ill, and was up too. But opened not my door till six: when Dorcas brought me his request for my company.
He approached me, and taking my hand, as I entered the dining-room, I went not to bed, Madam, till two, said he; yet slept not a wink. For God's sake, torment me not, as you have done for a week past.
He paused. I was silent.
At first, proceeded he, I thought your resentment of a curiosity, in which I had been disappointed, could not be deep; and that it would go off of itself: But, when I found it was to be kept up till you knew the success of some new overtures which you had made, and which, complied with, might have deprived me of you for ever, how, Madam, could I support myself under the thoughts of having, with such an union of interests, made so little impression upon your mind in my favour?
He paused again. I was still silent. He went on.