No, no," cried Marianne, "misery such as mine has no pride. I care not who knows that I am wretched. The triumph of seeing me so may be open to all the world. Elinor, Elinor, they who suffer little may be proud and independent as they like-may resist insult, or return mortification-but I cannot. I must feel-I must be wretched-and they are welcome to enjoy the consciousness of it that can.
