Darcy.
[Smiling.] What think you of books?
Elizabeth.
Books? Oh no: I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.
Darcy.
I am sorry you think so, but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions of them.
Elizabeth.
No, I cannot talk of books at a ball—my head is always full of something else.
Darcy.
The present always occupies you in such scenes, does it?