I love you. Most ardently.
Well, my comfort is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he has done.
I am not fond of the idea of my shrubberies being always approachable.
I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.
…but then I am unlike other people I dare say.
“It is not everyone,” said Elinor, “who has your passion for dead leaves.”