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Page 85

LETTER XII.

You will not write to me. Your messenger
assures me that you have cast me from your
thoughts forever, you will speak to me and see
me no more.

That must not be. I am preparing, inclement
as the season is, to pay you a visit. Unless
you shut your door against me I will see
you. You will not turn me out of doors, I hope.

I will see you and compel you to answer me,
to tell me why you will not admit my friend to
your good opinion.

J. Talbot.