and believe ing in my seduction. S, into marriage o a—ates, before admitting t, take my place. Sest— as a form of lunacy; and so keep he closer.
And ory as your moter, your uncles niece— in s, all t marks you as yourself. t! t of your life, as a servant free your cloak; and you so any part of to any neo suit your fancy.
ty—ter liberty—o Briar to offer. For payment s my trust, my promise, my future silence; and one une.
not speaking, my face turned from a minute. I say at last is:
e s.
once: I think we will.
t us.
Sracted by t into ructions ss to find t you, , in ?
And they look for her?
ted and robbed t her.
Forget her?
of mot. Sime. I dont trouble very she
turned out sion to be cared for, like ones. c her.
I gaze away from him. A madhouse . . .
I am sorry for t, your oation— your oation— as our crooked girls see , all to profit by it, once; t, for ever.
I still look a afraid of ir me, myself. I say, You speak as to you. Its the money you care for.
Ive admitted as muc? But t il our fortune is secure. You may trust yourself, till t to my , say, to my cupidity; side t out. I migeaco profit from it. e can take some ely, of course, , ure only be silent, to t it. You understand me? Being once committed to t be true to eac speak lig o ture of t you from a kno;
My uncles care, I say, o consider any strategy t . But—
s and, to s my aim t your uncle o vieomorroo reconsider. But t t, as about everything.
he passes his hand again before his eyes, and again looks older.
truck terribly c, all at once. as fear, or doubt. last takes my o me; but is yours— man see you kept doo le and insulted by fello? t I for anotor: slemen your uncles for your uncle to die, and find a liberty t ime, remor, age? Say ty-five, or forty. You o ting of books, of a kind t rey sells, for a so drapers boys and clerks. Your fortune sits untouc of a