As if distinctly to cut me for calling him "George" (I had always called him that), he addressed me as "Miss Ascough."
"Miss Ascough, were you ever really engaged to Bennet?"
He asked that as if the thought of it was something not at all to his liking. I nodded.
"And you broke it off, you say?"
Again I nodded.
"Why?"
"Because I didn't love him," I said truthfully.
I was so nervous and conscience-smitten and unhappy, and the room was so cold, that I was seized with a shivering fit, and could hardly keep my teeth from chattering; but Butler did not seem at all moved by my condition.
"May I ask if you were 'in love,' as you call it, with him when you accepted him?"