Elinor would not speak. He repeated the inquiry with yet greater eagerness.

“For God’s sake tell me, is she out of danger, or is she not?”

“We hope she is.”

He rose up, and walked across the room.

“Had I known as much half an hour ago⁠—But since I am here,”⁠—speaking with a forced vivacity as he returned to his seat⁠—“what does it signify? For once, Miss Dashwood⁠—it will be the last time, perhaps⁠—let us be cheerful together. I am in a fine mood for gaiety. Tell me honestly,” a deeper glow overspreading his cheeks, “do you think me most a knave or a fool?”

Elinor looked at him with greater astonishment than ever. She began to think that he must be in liquor;⁠—the strangeness of such a visit, and of such manners, seemed no otherwise intelligible; and with this impression she immediately rose, saying⁠—