Don't chide me, said I; I will but say one thing
more: Do you think Nan could hear me talk of my master's offers? No, no,
said she; she was dead asleep. I'm glad of that, said I; because I would
not expose my master to his common servants; and I knew you were no
stranger to his fine articles. Said she, I think they were fine
articles, and you were bewitched you did not close with them: But let us
go to sleep. So I was silent; and the pretended Nan (O wicked, base,
villanous designer! what a plot, what an unexpected plot was this!)
seemed to be awaking; and Mrs. Jewkes, abhorrent creature! said, Come,
Nan!--what, are you awake at last?--Pr'ythee come to bed; for Mrs. Pamela
is in a talking fit, and won't go to sleep one while.
At that, the pretended she came to the bed side; and, sitting down in a
chair, where the curtain hid her, began to undress. Said I, Poor Mrs.
Anne, I warrant your head aches most sadly! How do you do?
Says he, One word with you, Pamela; one word hear me but; I must say one
word to you, it is this: You see now you are in my power!--You cannot get
from me, nor help yourself: Yet have I not offered any thing amiss to
you. But if you resolve not to comply with my proposals, I will not lose
this opportunity: If you do, I will yet leave you.
Pages:
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335