I swore to you--and it was when your scorn and unbelief were at the highest--that you should yet smile upon the man you disdained, and smile upon no other.

It was a rough and uncouth threat for a lover; but my mistress would have it so.

It was a vow breathed in anger: but it was a vow not meant to be broken.

You tremble! I am cruel in my wooing; but this is not the moment for compliment and deception.

You are _mine_, Edith: I swore it to myself--ay, and to you.