soon, that my name may be no more mentioned
to you. It is now finished. Convinced that you have neither regard
nor friendship, I disdain to utter a reproach, though I have had
reason to think that the "forbearance" talked of has not been very
delicate. It is, however, of no consequence. I am glad you are
satisfied with your own conduct.

I now solemnly assure you that this is an eternal farewell. Yet I
flinch not from the duties which tie me to life.

That there is "sophistry," on one side or other, is certain; but
now it matters not on which. On my part it has not been a question
of words. Yet your understanding or mine must be strangely warped,
for what you term "delicacy" appears to me to be exactly the
contrary. I have no criterion for morality, and have thought in
vain, if the sensations which lead you to follow an ankle or step
be the sacred foundation of principle and affection. Mine has been
of a very different nature, or it would not have stood the brunt of
your sarcasms.

The sentiment in me is still sacred. If there be any part of me
that will survive the sense of my misfortunes, it is the purity of
my affections. The impetuosity of your senses may have led you to
term mere animal desire the source of principle; and it may give
zest to some years to come. Whether you will always think so, I
shall never know.

It is strange that, in spite of all you do, something like
conviction forces me to believe that you are not what you appear to
be.

I part with you in peace.

She saw him once or twice afterwards. When he came to London again,
Godwin says that "she could not restrain herself from making another
effort, and desiring to see him once more. During his absence, affection
had led her to make numberless excuses for his conduct, and she probably
wished to believe that his present connection was, as he represented it,
purely of a casual nature. To this application she observes that he
returned no other answer, except declaring, with unjustifiable passion,
that he would not see her."

They did meet, however, but their meeting was accidental. Imlay was one
day paying a visit to Mr. Christie, who had returned to London, and with
whom he had business relations. He was sitting in the parlor, when Mary
called. Mrs. Christie, hearing her voice, and probably fearing an
embarrassing s