You talk of weeping Clarinda; some involuntary drops wet your lines as I read them.—Offend me, my dearest Angel! you cannot offend me: you never offended me! If you had ever given me the least shadow of offence; so pardon me, my God, as I forgive Clarinda— I have read yours again: it has blotted my paper.—Tho' I find your letter has agitated me into a violent headach, I shall take a chair and be with you about eight.—A friend is to be with us at tead on my account, which hinders me from coming sooner.—Fogive, my dearest Clarinda, my unguarded expressions.—For Heaven's sake forgive me, or I shall never be able to bear my own mind!—
Your unhappy
Sylvander
Sylvander
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