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Автор: Jane Austen

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"I honour your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance is
certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by
the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture, somebody else
will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their
chance; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness,
if you decline the office, I will take it on myself."
The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only,
"Nonsense, nonsense!"
"What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?" cried he.
"Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that
is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you
there. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep
reflection, I know, and read great books, and make extracts."
Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.
"While Mary is adjusting her ideas," he continued, "let us return
to Mr. Bingley."
"I am sick of Mr. Bingley," cried his wife.

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