Clarissa Harlowe by Samuel Richardson (e reader manga .txt) 📕

of the vilest women⁠—nor does she go to you by her right name⁠—(Very true!)⁠—Her name is not Sinclair, nor is the street she lives in Dover-street. Did you never go out by yourself, and discharge the coach or chair, and return ☞ by another coach or chair? If you did, (yet I don’t remember that you ever wrote to me, that you did), you would never have found your way to the vile house, either by the woman’s name, Sinclair, or by the street’s name, mentioned by that Doleman in his letter about the lodgings.190

The wretch might indeed have held out these false lights a little more excusably, had the house been an honest house; and had his end only been to prevent mischief from your brother. But this contrivance was antecedent, as I think, to your brother’s project; so that no excuse can be made ☞ for his intentions at the time⁠—the man, whatever he may now intend, was certainly then, even then, a villain in his heart.

☞ I am excessively concerned that I should be prevailed upon, between your over-niceness, on one hand, and my mother’s positiveness, on the other, to be satisfied without knowing how to direct to you at your lodgings. I think too, that the proposal that I should be put off to a third-hand knowledge, or rather veiled in a firsthand ignorance, came from him, and that it was only acquiesced in by you, as it was by me,191 upon needless and weak considerations; because, truly, I might have it to say, if challenged, that I knew not where to send to you! I am ashamed of myself!⁠—Had this been at first excusable, it could not be a good reason for going on in the folly, when you had no liking to the ☞ house, and when he began to play tricks, and delay with you.⁠—What! I was to mistrust myself, was I? I was to allow it to be thought, that I could ☞ not keep my own secret?⁠—But the house to be ☞ taken at this time, and at that time, led us both on ☞⁠—like fools, like tame fools, in a string. Upon my life, my dear, this man is a vile, a contemptible villain⁠—I must speak out!⁠—How has he laughed in his sleeve at us both, I warrant, for I can’t tell how long!

And yet who could have thought that a man of ☞ fortune, and some reputation, (this Doleman, I mean⁠—not your wretch, to be sure!) formerly a rake, indeed, (I inquired after him long ago; and so was the easier satisfied); but married to a woman of family⁠—having had a palsy-blow⁠—and, ☞ one would think, a penitent, should recommend such a house (why, my dear, he could not inquire of it, but must find it to be bad) to such a man as Lovelace, to bring his future, nay, his then supposed, bride to?

☞ I write, perhaps, with too much violence, to be clear, but I cannot help it. Yet I lay down my pen, and take it up every ten minutes, in order to write with some temper⁠—my mother too, in and out⁠—What need I, (she asks me), lock myself in, if I am only reading past correspondencies? For ☞ that is my pretence, when she comes poking in with her face sharpened to an edge, as I may say, by a curiosity that gives her more pain than pleasure.⁠—☞ The Lord forgive me; but I believe I shall huff her next time she comes in.

Do you forgive me too, my dear⁠—my mother ought; because she says, I am my father’s girl; and because I am sure I am hers. I don’t know what to do⁠—I don’t know what to write next⁠—I have so much to write, yet have so little patience, and so little opportunity. But I will tell you how I came by my ☞ intelligence. That being a fact, and requiring the less attention, I will try to account to you for that.

Thus, then, it came about: “Miss Lardner (whom you have seen at her cousin Biddulph’s) saw you at St. James’s Church on Sunday was fortnight. She kept you in her eye during the whole time; but could not once obtain the notice of yours, though she courtesied to you twice. She thought to pay her compliments to you when the service was over, for she doubted not but you were married☞⁠—and for an odd reason⁠—because you came to church by yourself. Every eye, (as usual, wherever you are, she said), was upon you; and this seeming to give you hurry, and you being nearer the door than she, you slid out, before she could get to you.⁠—But she ordered her servant to follow you till you were housed. This servant saw you step into a chair, which waited for you; and you ordered the men to carry you to the place where they took you up.

“The next day, Miss Lardner sent the same servant, out of mere curiosity, to make private inquiry whether Mr. Lovelace were, or were not, with you there.⁠—And this inquiry brought out, ☞ from different people, that the house was suspected to be one of those genteel wicked houses, which receive and accommodate fashionable people of both sexes.

“Miss Lardner, confounded at this strange intelligence, made further inquiry; enjoining secrecy to the servant she had sent, as well as to the gentleman ☞ whom she employed; who had it confirmed from a rakish friend, who knew the house; and told him, that there were two houses: the one in which all decent appearances were preserved, and guests rarely admitted; the other, the receptacle of those who were absolutely engaged, and broken to the vile yoke.”

☞ Say⁠—my dear creature⁠—say⁠—Shall I not execrate the wretch?⁠—But words are weak⁠—What can I say, that will suitably express my abhorrence of such a