You must let me go now.

Do you think I do not see you have changed, that you have ceased to love me ?" Will noticed at once the dropping of the familiar "thee" and "thou"; and in his strange nature, where good and bad were for ever struggling with each other, a fierce anger awoke.

That she--Morva! a shepherdess! a milkmaid! should dare to oppose the wishes of the man who had once ruled her heart, and at whose beck and call she would have come as obediently as Tudor--that she should now set her will in opposition to his, and dare to ruffle the existence which had met with nothing but favour and success, was unbearable.
"What dost mean by these words, lodes ?[1] how have I ever shown that I have forgotten thee?
Dost expect me, who have my studies to employ me, and my future to consider--dost expect me to come philandering here on the cliffs after a shepherdess ?" "No," said Morva, trying to curb her hot Welsh temper, which rushed through her veins, "no! I only ask you to free me from my promise.

I have sworn that I would keep it, but if you do not wish it, He will not expect me to keep my vow.

I see that plainly.