I can see no reason to doubt that, as we are both successful
authors, we shall be able by our literary exertions, though with no
other fortune, to maintain ourselves either separately or, which is
more desirable, jointly. The loan I requested of you was rendered
necessary by some complication in her pecuniary affairs, the
consequence of her former connection, the particulars of which you
have probably heard. Now that we have entered into a new mode of
living, which will probably be permanent, I find a further supply
of fifty pounds will be necessary to enable us to start fair. This
you shall afford us, if you feel perfectly assured of its
propriety; but if there be the smallest doubt in your mind, I shall
be much more gratified by your obeying that doubt, than superseding
it. I do not at present feel inclined to remain long in any man's
debt, not even in yours. As to the not having published our
marriage at first, I yielded in that to her feelings. Having
settled the principal point in conformity to her interests, I felt
inclined to leave all inferior matters to her disposal.

We do not entirely cohabit.

W. GODWIN.

Strange to say, the announcement of their marriage did not produce quite
so satisfactory an effect as they had anticipated. Mary, notwithstanding
her frank protest, was still looked upon as Imlay's wife. Her intimate
connection with Godwin had been very generally understood, but not
absolutely known, and hence it had not ostracized her socially. If
conjectures and comments were made, they were whispered, and not uttered
aloud. But the marriage had to be recognized, and the fact that Mary was
free to marry Godwin, though Imlay was alive, was an incontrovertible
proof that her relation to the latter had been illegal. People who had
been deaf to her statements could not ignore this formal demonstration of
their truth. Hitherto, their friendliness to her could not be construed
into approval of her unconventionality. But now, by continuing to visit
her and receive her at their houses, they would be countenancing an
offence against morality which the world ranks with the unpardonable
sins. They might temporize with their own consciences, but not with
public opinion. They were therefore in a dilemma, from which there was no
middle course of extrication. Thus forced to decisive measures, a number
of her friends felt oblige