I did not fear punishment, but I dreaded shame: I dreaded it more than death, more than the crime, more than all the world.

I would have buried, hid myself in the centre of the earth: invincible shame bore down every other sentiment; shame alone caused all my impudence, and in proportion as I became criminal, the fear of discovery rendered me intrepid.

I felt no dread but that of being detected, of being publicly, and to my face, declared a thief, liar, and calumniator; an unconquerable fear of this overcame every other sensation.

Had I been left to myself, I should infallibly have declared the truth.

Or if M.de la Rogue had taken me aside, and said--"Do not injure this poor girl; if you are guilty own it,"-- I am convinced I should instantly have thrown myself at his feet; but they intimidated, instead of encouraging me.