Read "Clarissa Harlowe" by Samuel Richardson online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Tues. Morn. Ten o'clock Very ill -- exceedingly ill -- as Dorcas tells me, in order to avoid seeing me -- and yet the dear soul may be so in her mind. But is not that equivocation? Some one passion predominating in every human breast, breaks through principle, and controls us all. Mine is love and revenge taking turns. Hers is hatred.
-- But this is my consolation, that hatred appeased is love begun; or love renewed, I may rather say, if love ever had footing here.