7/14 I despaired, and in despair I took the cross of St.John. I learned that her love was undecayed. Poor child!--she was even then, sir, but a child! I, wild,--reckless--and not unskilled, perhaps, in the arts that woo and win. She could not resist my suit or her own affection!--We fled. In those words you see the thread of my after history. |