Longbourn · Chapter 2 · one bed
Six Inches Deep in Mud
The lane was not a lane. It was an argument between water and clay. Elizabeth walked it anyway. She jumped what she could and took what she could not, and arrived with a petticoat six inches deep in mud and a colour in her face that drawing rooms do not usually permit before noon.
Bingley received her as if mud were a kind of valour. Miss Bingley received her as if valour were a kind of mud. Jane, upstairs, received her as Jane received everything: with a hand and no performance.mud · six inches
Elizabeth sat with her sister through the morning. She read aloud. She did not comment on the house. She commented, once, on the view, which was handsome enough to tempt anyone with eyes.
He had seen the mud. He had seen her. He began.