Chapter 1: What is the main topic discussed in this episode?
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And as always, if you're enjoying the pod, please spread the word. Sharing with friends and family really does help. Thank you for joining us this evening. Now it's time to relax. Let your body fall into a comfortable position in your bed and drift gently into a state of total relaxation with tonight's story. Sense and Sensibility Chapter Twenty-Nine
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.
In this situation, Eleanor, roused from sleep by her agitation and sobs, first perceived her, and after observing her for a few moments with silent anxiety, said in a tone of the most considerate gentleness, Marianne, may I ask... No, Eleanor, she replied. Ask nothing. You will soon know all.
The sort of desperate calmness with which this was said lasted no longer than while she spoke and was immediately followed by a return of the same excessive affliction. It was some minutes before she could go on with her letter and
and the frequent bursts of grief which still obliged her, at intervals, to withhold her pen, were proofs enough of her feeling how more than probable it was that she was writing for the last time to Willoughby.
Eleanor paid her every quiet and unobtrusive attention in her power, and she would have tried to soothe and tranquilize her still more, had not Marianne entreated her with all the eagerness of the most nervous irritability not to speak to her for the world.
In such circumstances, it was better for both that they should not belong together, and the restless state of Marianne's mind not only prevented her from remaining in the room a moment after she was dressed, but requiring at once solitude and continual change of place, made her wander about the house till breakfast time, avoiding the sight of everybody.
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Chapter 2: What shocking news do the Dashwood sisters receive about Willoughby?
But yet you are. You must be happy. Edward loves you. What, oh what, can do away such happiness as that? Many, many circumstances, said Eleanor solemnly. No, no, no, cried Marianne wildly. He loves you and only you. You can have no grief. I can have no pleasure while I see you in this state. And you will never see me otherwise. Mine is a misery which nothing can do away.
You must not talk so, Marianne. Have you no comforts, no friends? Is your loss such as leaves no opening for consolation? Much as you suffer now, think of what you would have suffered if the discovery of his character had been delayed to a later period, if your engagement had been carried on for months and months, as it might have been, before he chose to put an end to it.
Every additional day of unhappy confidence on your side would have made the blow more dreadful. Engagement, cried Marianne. There has been no engagement. No engagement? No, he is not so unworthy as you believe him.
he has broken no faith with me but he told you that he loved you yes no never absolutely it was everyday implied but never professedly declared sometimes I thought it had been but it never was Yet you wrote to him? Yes, could that be wrong after all that had passed? But I cannot talk.
Eleanor said no more, and turning again to the three letters which now raised a much stronger curiosity than before, directly ran over the contents of all. The first, which was what her sister had sent him on their arrival in town, was to this effect. Barclay Street, January. How surprised you will be, Willoughby, on receiving this.
And I think you will feel something more than surprise when you know that I am in town. An opportunity of coming hither, though with Mrs. Jennings, was a temptation we could not resist. I wish you may receive this in time to come here tonight, but I will not depend on it. At any rate, I shall expect you tomorrow. For the present, adieu. M.D.
Her second note, which had been written on the morning after the dance at the Middletons, was in these words. I cannot express my disappointment in having missed you the day before yesterday, nor my astonishment at not having received any answer to a note which I sent you above a week ago. I have been expecting to hear from you and still more to see you every hour of the day.
Pray call again as soon as possible and explain the reason of my having expected this in vain. You had better come earlier another time because we are generally out by one. We were last night at Lady Middleton's where there was a dance. I have been told that you were asked to be of the party. But could it be so?
You must be very much altered indeed since we parted, if that could be the case and you not there. But I will not suppose this possible and I hope very soon to receive your personal assurance of its being otherwise. M.D. The contents of her last note to him were these. "'What am I to imagine, Willoughby, by your behaviour last night? Again I demand an explanation of it.
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Chapter 3: How does Marianne react to Willoughby's letter?
It would be impossible to go tomorrow. We owe Mrs Jennings much more than civility, and civility of the commonest kind must prevent such a hasty removal as that. Well then, another day or two perhaps. But I cannot stay here long. I cannot stay to endure the questions and remarks of all these people. The Middletons and Palmers. How am I to bear their pity?
The pity of such a woman as Lady Middleton. Oh, what would he say to that?
Eleanor advised her to lie down again, and for a moment she did so, but no attitude could give her ease, and in restless pain of mind and body she moved from one posture to another, till growing more and more hysterical, her sister could with difficulty keep her on the bed at all, and for some time was fearful of being constrained to call for assistance.
Some lavender drops, however, which she was at length persuaded to take, were of use, and from that time till Mrs. Jennings returned, she continued on the bed quiet and motionless.
The End Thank you. Thank you. so so so so you . . So, you . . . Thank you. so so you so so you Thank you.
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