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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Catriona"

This
was my first night of wakefulness and divided counsels, of which I
was now to pass many, pacing like a madman, sometimes weeping like
a childish boy, sometimes praying (I fain would hope) like a
Christian.
But prayer is not very difficult, and the hitch comes in practice.
In her presence, and above all if I allowed any beginning of
familiarity, I found I had very little command of what should
follow. But to sit all day in the same room with her, and feign to
be engaged upon Heineccius, surpassed my strength. So that I fell
instead upon the expedient of absenting myself so much as I was
able; taking out classes and sitting there regularly, often with
small attention, the test of which I found the other day in a note-
book of that period, where I had left off to follow an edifying
lecture and actually scribbled in my book some very ill verses,
though the Latinity is rather better than I thought that I could
ever have compassed. The evil of this course was unhappily near as
great as its advantage. I had the less time of trial, but I
believe, while the time lasted, I was tried the more extremely.


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