If he did not realise the truth before, this sweetness of reconciliation, this hour and а
half spent at ]a.ne’s side, have brought him to see it
in its very nakedness at last. <...> As much mad passionate
devotion as his nature is capable of he, Emma Marsland’s lover, is lavishing upon a woman the tips of
whose ï¬ngers he will never be allowed to kiss while
he lives. <...> Courage to break the heart of a good and amiable
girl who, until she became his betrothed wife, was his
sister and best friend; means to pay the forfeit (not
the loss of Emma's fortune, let me do Rawdon justice, this is the lightest of his considerations): the forfeit of
6 ouonrwr. <...> TO VISIT HER?
self-respect, of credit before his own family and before
the world, which breach of faith so flagrant must
entail? <...> Well, then, shall he tell the truth, the absolute, honourable, ridiculous truth, and let Emma deal with
the future of both as she chooses? “I thought I loved
you, my dear Emma,†such a confession must run.
“I was sure, at all events, that it was my mama-ta’;
wish we should marry; and as you have thirty thousand
pounds, and as I knew that you had long a.g0‘l)estowec1
your affections upon me, I proposed. <...> And on the day
you accepted me, my dear, I fell in love with some
one else—needless, I believe, to mention her nameand have been stealthily seeing her and falling deeper
and deeper in love ever since. <...> She laughs in my face;
was good enough, a few days ago, to tell me that her
heart was not in her own keeping, and I think this
has had the eflect of rendering my passion for her a
little the stronger. <...> The possession of a torn glove, of
a faded flower that she has worn, renders me happier
than would the gift, my dear Emma, of your hand
and of all the substantial blessings your hand would
bring with it. <...> However, as I am tryin"g- to act like a
man of honour, you see, I <...>