I beg your presence in the dining-room for one quarter of an hour, and I will then leave you for the day, I am,
My dearest life, Your ever adoring and truly penitent LOVELACE.
*** TO MR. LOVELACE
I will not see you. I cannot see you. I have no directions to give you. Let Providence decide for me as it pleases.
The more I reflect upon your vileness, your ungrateful, your barbarous vileness, the more I am exasperated against you.
You are the last person whose judgment I will take upon what is or is not carried too far in matters of decency.
'Tis grievous to me to write, or even to think of you at present. Urge me no more then. Once more, I will not see you. Nor care I, now you have made me vile to myself, what other people think of me.
*** TO MRS. LOVELACE
Again, Madam, I remind you of your promise: and beg leave to say, I insist upon the performance of it.
Remember, dearest creature, that the fault of a blameable person cannot warrant a fault in one more perfect. Overniceness may be underniceness!