As he had several times proposed London to me, I expected that he would eagerly have embraced that motion from me. But he took not ready hold of it: yet I thought his eye approved of it.
We are both great watchers of each other’s eyes; and, indeed, seem to be more than half afraid of each other.
He then made a grateful proposal to me: ‘that I would send for my Norton to attend me.
He saw by my eyes, he said, that he had at last been happy in an expedient, which would answer the wishes of us both. Why, says he, did I not think of it before?—And snatching my hand, Shall I write, Madam? Shall I send? Shall I go and fetch the worthy woman myself?
I think this is a very telling comment. Clarissa and Lovelace both know that their words aren't necessarily to be trusted. Somehow, the eyes are more honest–more sincere. The true "self" is revealed more in the appearance of the face than the words of the mouth. Neither is very good at preparing a false face.
This passage is another I marked because I was fascinated by the references to the nonverbal, physical cues here. This volume obviously contains the most face-to-face interaction between Clarissa and Lovelace we’ve seen thus far, and I think it is important to note all of the moments when these characters’ words are supplemented by references to the eyes and to “looks.” Here’s another passage in the same letter from Clarissa that references these cues: “I am quite at a loss, said I, what to do or where to go. Would you, Mr. Lovelace, in earnest, advise me to think of going to London? And I looked at him with stedfastness. But nothing could I gather from his looks.” Here, Clarissa begins partaking in the game Lovelace instigated; she appears to be testing Lovelace here, using her words as the test and her ability to see emotions in his face or some truth in his eyes that language itself cannot convey to figure out how to proceed.
Letter 125I marked this, too—for this great concept of “watching.” We are watching them, through each other’s and their own eyes, and through the mediated perspectives of the narrator, editor, and Richardson.What I also found fascinating—and poignant—was Clarissa’s assumption of equal fear on Lovelace’s part, as if they are truly in this ‘dance’ together, both “half afraid,” equally wary.Lovelace might be feeling fear here—but the reasons for his trepidation (his fear of not getting his conquest on his own terms instead of hers) have far more power than hers (her physical, psychological, emotional, and social health and well-being), as do the consequences.
But, to clarify, he doesn't mean what he says here. Didn't he establish in a letter to Belford that he already understands Hannah to be too ill to attend Clarissa before this conversation happens? Or am I confusing two different conversations here?If I'm not confusing two different conversations (I hope), Lovelace is much better at reading (or "watching") Clarissa than she is at reading him. He seems more able, in some instances, to convey false information with his face.
This letter was intriguing because Clarissa senses that Lovelace is not what he appears to be and she looks for confirmation, or betrayal, of his words in his body language. What she does not know is that Lovelace is a performer and only reacts and responds as suits his needs. He can manipulate others as needed but Clarissa is not like the other women he has met or broken. The fact that they also look into each others eyes is interesting to me as well because this seems like a match or something that one does to let another know that they are not intimidated — like she is sizing him up.