The more you tease me, the worse it will be for you.
Time is wanted to consider whether I ever should think of you at all.
At present, it is my sincere wish, that I may never more see your face.
All that can afford you the least shadow of favour from me, arises from
the hoped-for reconciliation with my real friends, not my Judas
protector.
I am careless at present of consequences. I hate myself: And who is it I
have reason to value?--Not the man who could form a plot to disgrace his
own hopes, as well as a poor friendless creature, (made friendless by
himself,) by insults not to be thought of with patience.
***