st, and every one in it not only engaging to
intimidate and assist, as occasion shall offer, but staking all their
experience upon my success, if it be not my own fault, what must be the
consequence?

This, Jack, however, shall be her last trial; and if she behave as nobly
in and after this second attempt (all her senses about her) as she has
done after the first, she will come out an angel upon full proof, in
spite of man, woman, and devil: then shall there be an end of all her
sufferings. I will then renounce that vanquished devil, and reform. And
if any vile machination start up, presuming to mislead me, I will sooner
stab it in my heart, as it rises, than give way to it.

A few hours will now decide all. But whatever be the event, I shall be
too busy to write again, till I get to M. Hall.

Mean time, I am in strange agitations. I must suppress them, if
possible, before I venture into her presence.--My heart bounces my bosom
from the table. I will lay down my pen, and wholly resign to its
impulses.

LETTER XXXVI

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
FRIDAY NIGHT, OR RATHER SAT. MORN. ONE O'CLOCK.

I thought I should not have had either time or inclination to write
another line before I got to M. Hall. But, having the first, must find
the last; since I can neither sleep, nor do any thing but write, if I can
do that. I am most confoundedly out of humour. The reason let it
follow; if it will follow--nor preparation for it from me.

I tried by gentleness and love to soften--What?--Marble. A heart
incapable either of love or gentleness. Her past injuries for ever in
her head. Ready to receive a favour; the permission to go to
Hampstead: but neither to deserve it, nor return any. So my scheme of
the gentle kind was soon given over.

I then wanted to provoke her: like a coward boy, who waits for the first
blow before he can persuade himself to fight, I half challenged her to
challenge or defy me. She seemed aware of her danger; and would not
directly brave my resentment: but kept such a middle course, that I
neither could find a pretence to offend, nor reason to hope: yet she
believed my tale, that her uncle would come to Kentish-town, and seemed
not to apprehend that Tomlinson was an impostor.

She was very uneasy, upon the whole, in my company: wanted often to
break from me: yet so held me to my purpose of permitting her to go to
Hampstead, that I knew not how to get off it; although it was im