Darcy.
May I ask to what these questions lead?
Elizabeth.
Merely to the illustration of your character. I am trying to make it out.
Darcy.
And what is your success?
Elizabeth.
[Shaking her head.] I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.
Darcy.
[Gravely.] I can readily believe that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.