BOOK XIII. CONTAINING THE SPACE OF TWELVE DAYS.
11. Chapter xi. In which the reader will be surprized.
(continued)
After a short pause, Jones, with faultering accents, said--"I see,
madam, you are surprized."--"Surprized!" answered she; "Oh heavens!
Indeed, I am surprized. I almost doubt whether you are the person you
seem."--"Indeed," cries he, "my Sophia, pardon me, madam, for this
once calling you so, I am that very wretched Jones, whom fortune,
after so many disappointments, hath, at last, kindly conducted to you.
Oh! my Sophia, did you know the thousand torments I have suffered in
this long, fruitless pursuit."--"Pursuit of whom?" said Sophia, a
little recollecting herself, and assuming a reserved air.--"Can you be
so cruel to ask that question?" cries Jones; "Need I say, of you?" "Of
me!" answered Sophia: "Hath Mr Jones, then, any such important
business with me?"--"To some, madam," cries Jones, "this might seem an
important business" (giving her the pocket-book). "I hope, madam, you
will find it of the same value as when it was lost." Sophia took the
pocket-book, and was going to speak, when he interrupted her
thus:--"Let us not, I beseech you, lose one of these precious moments
which fortune hath so kindly sent us. O, my Sophia! I have business of
a much superior kind. Thus, on my knees, let me ask your pardon."--"My
pardon!" cries she; "Sure, sir, after what is past, you cannot expect,
after what I have heard."--"I scarce know what I say," answered Jones.
"By heavens! I scarce wish you should pardon me. O my Sophia!
henceforth never cast away a thought on such a wretch as I am. If any
remembrance of me should ever intrude to give a moment's uneasiness to
that tender bosom, think of my unworthiness; and let the remembrance
of what passed at Upton blot me for ever from your mind."
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