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Sir Walter Elliot: Come, come, Anne! We must not be late. You cannot have forgotten we have an invitation from Lady Dalrymple.
Anne Elliot: I regret I am already engaged to spend the evening with an old school-friend.
Elizabeth Elliot: Not that sickly old widow in Westgate-buildings?
Anne Elliot: Mrs Smith. Yes.
Sir Walter Elliot: Smith? Westgate building?
Mrs. Clay: Excuse me.
Sir Walter Elliot: And who, pray, is Mrs Smith? One of the five thousand Smiths that are everywhere to be met with? Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste. To place such a person ahead of your own family connections among the nobility of England and Ireland. Mrs Smith!
Anne Elliot: Perhaps she is not the only poor widow in Bath with little to live on and no surname of dignity. Good evening.
Captain Wentworth: Miss Elliot, I can bear this no longer. You pierce my soul. I'm half agony, half hope. Unjust I may have been. Weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it eight years ago.
