S. It was gratitude, Sir, for different obligations.

H. If you mean by obligations the presents I made you, I had given you
none the first day I came. You do not consider yourself OBLIGED to
everyone who asks you for a kiss?

S. No, Sir.

H. I should not have thought anything of it in anyone but you. But you
seemed so reserved and modest, so soft, so timid, you spoke so low, you
looked so innocent--I thought it impossible you could deceive me.
Whatever favors you granted must proceed from pure regard. No betrothed
virgin ever gave the object of her choice kisses, caresses more modest
or more bewitching than those you have given me a thousand and a
thousand times. Could I have thought I should ever live to believe them
an inhuman mockery of one who had the sincerest regard for you? Do you
think they will not now turn to rank poison in my veins, and kill me,
soul and body? You say it is friendship--but if this is friendship,
I'll forswear love. Ah! Sarah! it must be something more or less than
friendship. If your caresses are sincere, they shew fondness--if they
are not, I must be more than indifferent to you. Indeed you once let
some words drop, as if I were out of the question in such matters, and
you could trifle with me with impunity. Yet you complain at other times
that no one ever took such liberties with you as I have done. I
remember once in particular your saying, as you went out at the door in
anger--"I had an attachment before, but that person never attempted
anything of the kind." Good God! How did I dwell on that word
BEFORE, thinking it implied an attachment to me also; but you have
since disclaimed any such meaning. You say you have never professed