"After all that has past," said Cecilia, sensibly touched by his
distress, "I expected not these complaints, nor that, from me, any
assurances would be wanted; yet, if it will quiet your mind, if it will
better reconcile you to our separation---"

"Oh fatal prelude!" interrupted he, "what on earth can quiet my mind
that leads to our separation?--Give to me no condescension with any
such view,--preserve your indifference, persevere in your coldness,
triumph still in your power of inspiring those feelings you can never
return,--all, every thing is more supportable than to talk of our
separation!"

"Yet how," cried she, "parted, torn asunder as we have been, how is it
now to be avoided?"

"Trust in my honour! Shew me but the confidence which I will venture to
say I deserve, and then will that union no longer be impeded, which in
future, I am certain, will never be repented!"

"Good heaven, what a request! faith so implicit would be frenzy."

"You doubt, then, my integrity? You suspect---"

"Indeed I do not; yet in a case of such importance, what ought to guide
me but my own reason, my own conscience, my own sense of right? Pain me
not, therefore, with reproaches, distress me no more with entreaties,
when I solemnly declare that no earthly consideration shall ever again
make me promise you my hand, while the terror of Mrs Delvile's
displeasure has possession of my heart. And now adieu."