"
"What means all this parade, my dear? Let me perish," that was his
word, "if I know how to account for _you_, or your _humour_."
"You _will_, presently. Sir. But give me all my ways--I pray you
do--This one time only!"
"Well, so, this is your bar, is it? There's an elbow-chair, I see;
take your place in it, Pamela, and here I'll stand to answer all your
questions."
"No, Sir, that must not be." So I boldly led him to the elbow-chair.
"You are the judge, Sir; it is I that am to be tried. Yet I will not
say I am a criminal. I know I am not. But that must be proved, Sir,
you know."
"Well, take your way; but I fear for your head, my dear, in all this."
"I fear only my heart, Sir, that's all! but there you must sit--So
here," (retiring to the three chairs, and leaning on the backs,) "here
I stand."
"And now, my dearest Mr. B., you must begin first; you must be my
accuser, as well as my judge."
"I have nothing to accuse you of, my dear, if I _must_ give in to your
moving whimsy. You are everything I wish you to be. But for the last
month you have seemed to be uneasy, and have not done me the justice
to acquaint me with your reasons for it."
"I was in hopes my reasons might have proved to be no reasons; and I
would not trouble you with my ungrounded apprehensions.
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