But right or wrong, I did what I had to do, and I do not intend to blame myself, nor to hear blame from any one else.

I am perfectly willing that the whole world should know what I have done--that is, I should be were it not for father." "Again I say I do not blame you," I returned, "though I wish sincerely you had not gone." "Why did you follow me, and how did you know where I had gone ?" asked Frances.
I told her of my visit to her father's house and how, upon my failure to find her there, I went to the Old Swan.
"I thought it would be better that you should leave the Old Swan with me than alone," I said.

"It would have been better had you taken me with you." "Would you have gone with me, knowing my errand ?" she asked.
"Yes, gladly," I answered.

"When a woman deliberately makes up her mind to do a thing of this sort, she does it sooner or later, despite heaven, earth, or the other place to the contrary.

I should have gained nothing by opposing you; I could at least have given color of propriety by going with you." We walked up Thames Street till we came to the neighborhood of Baynard's Castle, where we took boat and went to Whitehall, each of us in silent revery all the way.
While I was paying the waterman, Frances ran up the stairs to the garden, and when I followed I saw her talking to the king, so I stopped ten or twelve paces from them and removed my hat.