It is one of my faults, that though my tongue is sometimes prompt enough at an answer, there are times when… — Charlotte Brontë
It is one of my faults, that though my tongue is sometimes prompt enough at an answer, there are times when it sadly fails me in framing an excuse; and always the lapse occurs at some crisis, when a facile word or plausible pretext is specially wanted to get me out of painful embarrassment.
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"I scorn your idea of love," I could not help saying, as I rose up and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. "I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer; yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you offer it."
Reader, I married him.
I have not much pride under such circumstances: I would always rather be happy than dignified.

