But he may moult to a prettier colour.

I hope so--but in my heart I dare not believe it.

For he is of that tribe of men who would have their will of every pretty petticoat they notice.

Some are less unscrupulous than others, that is the only difference.

And he seems still to harbour a few scruples, judging from what I see of him and her, and what I know of her.
"Yet, if a man bear not his good intention plainly written on his face, and yet protests he dies unless you love him, what scruples he may entertain will wither to ashes in the fiercer flame.