"I scorn your imputation, Sir William," said I, half fainting and breathless, "nor shall I make any resistance or opposition to your leaving me a beggar. I have now reason to believe I shall not live to want what you are determined to force from me, as these violent methods will soon deprive me of my existence, even if _you_ would withhold the murderous knife." "Come, none of your damned whining; let me have the papers; and let us not think any more about it." He offered to raise me. "I want not your assistance," said I. "Oh! you are sulky, are you; but I shall let you know, Madam, these airs will not do with me." I had seated myself on a chair, and leaned my elbow on a table, supporting my head with my hand; he snatched my hand away from my face, while he was making the last speech. "What the devil! am I to wait all day for the papers? Where are the keys?" "Take them," said I, drawing them from my pocket; "do what you will, provided you leave me to myself." "Damned sex!" cried he. "Wives or mistresses, by Heaven! you are all alike." So saying, he went out of the room, and, opening my bureau, possessed himself of the parchment so much desired by him. I have not seen him since, and now it is past eleven. What a fate is mine! However, I have no more to give up; so he cannot storm at, or threaten me again, since I am now a beggar as well as himself. I shall sit about an hour longer, and then I shall fasten my door for the night; and I hope he will not insist on my opening it for him. I make Win lie in a little bed in a closet within my room. She is the only domestic I can place the least confidence in. She sees my eyes red with weeping; she sheds tears, but asks no questions. Farewell, my dearest Louisa: pity the sufferings of thy sister, who feels every woe augmented by the grief she causes in your sympathizing breast. Adieu! Adieu! J.S. LETTER XXXVII. From the SYLPH.