When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. "I have nothing to forgive. It was the one that she had sworn she’d throw out, if only Julian had not liked it so much. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. Either Sydney or Mr. Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime.
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