Marianne Dashwood in Podcasts

said she in a voice of great compassion to Marianne, who turned away her face without attempting to answer."

Before the housemaid had lit their fire the next day, or the sun gained any power over a cold, gloomy morning in January, Marianne, only half-dressed, was kneeling against one of the window seats for the sake of all the little light she could command from it, and writing as fast as a continual flow of tears would permit her.