Explore "Clarissa Harlowe" by Samuel Richardson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sunday Night, March 12 / This man, this Lovelace, gives me great uneasiness. He is extremely bold and rash. He was this afternoon at our church -- in hopes to see me, I suppose: and yet, if he had such hopes, his usual intelligence must have failed him.
Shorey was at church; and a principal part of her observation was upon his haughty and proud behaviour when he turned round in the pew where he sat to our family-pew. My father and both my uncles were there; so were my mother and sister. My brother happily was not.