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Miss Bingley: "I heard Eliza Bennet described as a famous local beauty. What do you say to that, Mr. Darcy?"
Mr. Darcy: "I should as soon call her mother a wit."
Miss Bingley: "Oh, Mr. Darcy, that's too cruel."

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Miss Bingley: "I believe I can guess your thoughts at this moment."
Mr. Darcy: "I should imagine not."

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Miss Bingley: "You are thinking how insupportable it would be to spend many evenings in such tedious company."
Mr. Darcy: "No, indeed. My mind was more agreeably engaged."

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Mr. Darcy: "I've been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes and the face of a pretty woman can bestow."
Miss Bingley: "And may one dare ask, who's are the eyes that inspire these reflections?"
Mr. Darcy: "Miss Elizabeth Bennet's."

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Miss Bingley: "I'm afraid, Mr. Darcy, that this escapade may have affected your admiration for her fine eyes?"
Mr. Darcy: "Not at all, they were brightened by the exercise."

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Miss Bingley: "But afterwards she seemed to improve on you. I even believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."
Mr. Darcy: "Yes, I did. But that was only when I first knew her, for it has been many months now since I have considered her one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance."

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Miss Bingley: "You are very quiet this evening, Mr. Darcy. I sincerely hope you are not pining for the loss of Miss Eliza Bennet."
Mr. Darcy: "What?"