signed　as　the　farthest　to　which　a　husband’s　ardour　extends。　Yet；　after　all；　as　a　friend　and　panion；　I　hope　never　to　bee　quite　distasteful　to　my　dear　master。”

“Distasteful！　and　like　you　again！　I　think　I　shall　like　you　again；　and　yet　again：　and　I　will　make　you　confess　I　do　not　only　like；　but　love　you—with　truth；　fervour；　constancy。”

“Yet　are　you　not　capricious；　sir？”

“To　women　who　please　me　only　by　their　faces；　I　am　the　very　devil　when　I　find　out　they　have　neither　souls　nor　hearts—when　they　open　to　me　a　perspective　of　flatness；　triviality；　and　perhaps　imbecility；　coarseness；　and　ill…temper：　but　to　the　clear　eye　and　eloquent　tongue；　to　the　soul　made　of　fire；　and　the　character　that　bends　but　does　not　break—at　once　supple　and　stable；　tractable　and　consistent—I　am　ever　tender　and　true。”

“Had　you　ever　experience　of　such　a　character；　sir？　Did　you　ever　love　such　an　one？”

“I　love　it　now。”

“But　before　me：　if　I；　indeed；　in　any　respect　e　up　to　your　difficult　standard？”

“I　never　met　your　likeness。　Jane；　you　please　me；　and　you　master　me—you　seem　to　submit；　and　I　like　the　sense　of　pliancy　you　impart；　and　while　I　am　twining　the　soft；　silken　skein　round　my　finger；　it　sends　a　thrill　up　my　arm　to　my　heart。　I　am　influenced—conquered；　and　the　influence　is　sweeter　than　I　can　express；　and　the　conquest　I　undergo　has　a　witchery　beyond　any　triumph　I　can　win。　Why　do　you　smile；　Jane？　What　does　that　inexplicable；　that　uncanny　turn　of　countenance　mean？”