Do you remember?
A moment's reflection recalled to my mind all the incidents of that day.
I had good reason to remember them.

I felt no small trepidation when Ludloe referred me to that day, for, at the moment, I was doubtful whether there had not been some bivocal agency exerted On that occasion.
Luckily, however, it was almost the only similar occasion in which it had been wholly silent.
I answered in the affirmative.

I remember them perfectly.
And yet, said Ludloe, with a smile that seemed intended to disarm this declaration of some of its terrors, I suspect your recollection is not as exact as mine, nor, indeed, your knowledge as extensive.

You met there, for the first time, a female, whose nominal uncle, but real father, a dean of that ancient church, resided in a blue stone house, the third from the west angle of the square of St.Jago.
All this was exactly true.
This female, continued he, fell in love with you.

Her passion made her deaf to all the dictates of modesty and duty, and she gave you sufficient intimations, in subsequent interviews at the same place, of this passion; which, she being fair and enticing, you were not slow in comprehending and returning.