Everything that kills me makes me feel alive
Unfortunately for Mr. Darcy, he had wandered too close to Miss Bingley to avoid her entreaty for him to turn the pages for her as she played. His exprеssion hinged on the verge of a scowl as Miss Bingley repeated brushed her elbow against his arm while she played, much to the continued amusement of Mr. Bennet. It had always been obvious to him that with regard to Mr. Darcy, she was a huntress of the first order, and wondered if perhaps the genes provoking Mr. Bingley’s barnacle-like behavior were hereditary. How anyone could mistake the man for proud, he did not understand. All he saw was a young man desperately trying to remain civil in the face of those who wished to stable him like a prized stallion. Mr. Bennet found too much hilarity in the young man’s predicament to let him escape, and devised a method of prolonging the scene.
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