“The shame,” he answered, “is all mine, or ought to be. But is it possible that you had no suspicion?⁠—I mean of late. Early, I know, you had none.”

“I never had the smallest, I assure you.”

“That appears quite wonderful. I was once very near⁠—and I wish I had⁠—it would have been better. But though I was always doing wrong things, they were very bad wrong things, and such as did me no service.⁠—It would have been a much better transgression had I broken the bond of secrecy and told you everything.”

“It is not now worth a regret,” said Emma.

“I have some hope,” resumed he, “of my uncle’s being persuaded to pay a visit at Randalls; he wants to be introduced to her. When the Campbells are returned, we shall meet them in London, and continue there, I trust, till we may carry her northward.⁠—But now, I am at such a distance from her⁠—is not it hard, Miss Woodhouse?⁠—Till this morning, we have not once met since the day of reconciliation. Do not you pity me?”