It seemed not possible to have resisted the boldness of her innocence or that last temptation of her weeping.

And all that I had to excuse me did but make my sin appear the greater--it was upon a nature so defenceless, and with such advantages of the position, that I seemed to have practised.
What was to become of us now?
It seemed we could no longer dwell in the one place.

But where was I to go?
or where she?
Without either choice or fault of ours, life had conspired to wall us together in that narrow place.

I had a wild thought of marrying out of hand; and the next moment put it from me with revolt.

She was a child, she could not tell her own heart; I had surprised her weakness, I must never go on to build on that surprisal; I must keep her not only clear of reproach, but free as she had come to me.
Down I sat before the fire, and reflected, and repented, and beat my brains in vain for any means of escape.