I'll see them all, said he, down to this time, if you have written so
far:--Or, at least, till within this week.--Then let me go up to them,
said I, and see what I have written, and to what day, to shew them to
you; for you won't desire to see every thing. But I will, replied he.--
But say, Pamela, tell me truth: Are they above? I was much affrighted.
He saw my confusion. Tell me truth, said he. Why, sir, answered I, I
have sometimes hid them under the dry mould in the garden; sometimes in
one place, sometimes in another; and those you have in your hand, were
several days under a rose-bush, in the garden. Artful slut! said he,
What's this to my question?--Are they not about you?--If, said I, I must
pluck them out of my hiding-place behind the wainscot, won't you see me?
--Still more and more artful! said he--Is this an answer to my question?
--I have searched every place above, and in your closet, for them, and
cannot find them; so I will know where they are. Now, said he, it is my
opinion they are about you; and I never undressed a girl in my life; but
I will now begin to strip my pretty Pamela; and I hope I shall not go far
before I find them.
I fell a crying, and said, I will not be used in this manner. Pray, sir,
said I, (for he began to unpin my handkerchief,) consider! Pray sir,
do!--And pray, said he, do you consider.
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