You remember that last night we ever spent together at Lidford--what a feverishly-happy night it was; only a cottage-parlour with a girl's bright face shining in the lamplight, and a man over head and ears in love, but a glimpse of paradise to that man.

I meant that it should be the last of my weakness, Gilbert.

I had pledged myself to that by all the outspoken oaths wherewith a man can bind himself to do his duty.

And I did turn my back upon the scene of my temptation, as you know, heartily resolved never to approach the edge of the pit again.

I think if you had stayed in England, Gilbert, if you had been on the spot to defend your own rights, all would have gone well, I should have kept the promise I had made for myself." "It was so much the more sacred because of my absence, John," Gilbert said.
"Perhaps.