Darcy.
[Continues in a discouraged tone.] Well, I deserve it. It is my own fault. My selfish conceit has wounded you past help. Every sentiment of your nature has felt it—seen it.
Elizabeth.
[Demurely.] But one sentiment they say is blind.
Darcy.
[Stunned.] Miss Bennet! [Elizabeth looks up at him. He rushes toward her.] Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!
[He holds her in his arms.]
CURTAIN.