She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. . You yourself, I am sure, recognize how impossible you have made it for me now to do anything of the sort. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. After debating with himself whether he should further seek an interview, which, though, now in his power, was so sedulously shunned by the other party, he decided in the negative; and contenting himself with writing upon a slip of paper the hasty words,—"You are known by the villagers,—be upon your guard,"—he gave it to the ostler, with instructions to deliver it instantly to the owner of the horse he pointed out, and pursued his course. He walked in her direction. Good riddance. If I told you the facts, I expect, since you are in love with me, you’d explain the whole business as being very fine and honorable for me—the Higher Morality, or something of that sort. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet.
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