Monday night, twelve o'clock
of penitence and remorse ! What can be the end of this affection ? I dare neither to hope that it may continue or that it may cease ; in either case I am wretched for ever ! Monday night , twelve o'clock . -- They observe my paleness ; the tears which tremble in my eyes ; the listlessness and dejection of my manner . I think Mrs. Dalton guesses the cause . Humbled and debased in my own mind , I fly , Falkland , for refuge to you !