But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, "You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val, With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "This S wants a little deepening," mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay, that's better. We LIKED each other well enough. ‘That’s just it. "I couldn't go on!" "You'll need something more than courage now. Well, well; all he himself could do would be to watch this singular drama unroll. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish.
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