I obeyed, and begged her hand over the table, to my extended hand; to see, if in any thing she would oblige me. But nothing gentle, soft, or affectionate, would do. She refused me her hand!—Was she wise, Jack, to confirm to me, that nothing but terror would do?
Let me only know, Madam, if your promise to endeavour to wait with patience the event of next Thursday meant me favour?
Do you expect any voluntary favour from one to whom you give not a free choice?
Do you intend, Madam, to honour me with your hand, in your uncle’s presence, or do you not?
My heart and my hand shall never be separated. Why, think you, did I stand in opposition to the will of my best, my natural friends.
I know what you mean, Madam—Am I then as hateful to you as the vile Solmes?
Ask me not such a question, Mr. Lovelace.
I must be answered. Am I as hateful to you as the vile Solmes?
Why do you call Mr. Solmes vile?
Don’t you think him so, Madam?