Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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“Oh! certainly,”
“we will ask you no questions.”
“You may readily comprehend,”
“what my curiosity must be to know how a person unconnected with any of us, and (comparatively speaking) a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it — unless it is, for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance.”
“Not that I shall though,”
“and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it out.”
“You certainly do,”
“but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”
“True. Are the others coming out?”
“Yes, she did.”
“That
and
she was afraid
At such a distance as that, you know, things are strangely misrepresented.”
“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,”
“It must be something particular, to take him there at this time of year.”
“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”
“Very much.”
“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”
“I do not recollect that we did.”
“How should you have liked making sermons?”
“I have heard
from authority, which I thought as good,
that
“I did hear,
too,
that
that
and
that
“Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one mind.”
“This is the consequence, you see, Madam, of marrying a daughter,”
“It must make you better satisfied that your other four are single.”
“Yet it is hard,”
“that this poor man cannot come to a house which he has legally hired, without raising all this speculation! I will leave him to himself.”
“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,”
“but it is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have always so much.”
“Could I expect it to be otherwise!”
“Yet why did he come?”
“The first wish of my heart,”
“is never more to be in company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either one or the other again!”
“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,”
“did he come at all?”
“He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and aunt, when he was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing, man! I will think no more about him.”
“Yes, very indifferent indeed,”
“Oh, Jane, take care.”
“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever.”
“If he does not come to me, then,”
“I shall give him up for ever.”
“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings!”