than ever I was in my life.

You have never found me a common liar, said he, (too fearful and foolish
Pamela!) nor will I answer how long I may hold in my present mind; for my
pride struggles hard within me, I'll assure you; and if you doubt me, I
have no obligation to your confidence or opinion. But, at present, I am
really sincere in what I say: And I expect you will be so too; and answer
directly my question.

I find, sir, said I, I know not myself; and your question is of such a
nature, that I only want to tell you what I heard, and to have your kind
answer to it; or else, what I have to say to your question, may pave the
way to my ruin, and shew a weakness that I did not believe was in me.

Well, said he, you may say what you have overheard; for, in not answering
me directly, you put my soul upon the rack; and half the trouble I have
had with you would have brought to my arms one of the finest ladies in
England.

O sir, said I, my virtue is as dear to me, as if I was of the highest
quality; and my doubts (for which you know I have had too much reason)
have made me troublesome. But now, sir, I will tell you what I heard,
which has given me great uneasiness.

You talked to Mrs. Jewkes of having begun wrong with me, in trying to
subdue me with terror, and of frost, and such like--You remember it
well:--And that you would, for the future, change your conduct, and try
to melt me, that was your word, by kindness.

I fear not, sir, the grace of God supporting me, that any acts of