Every line, every word was – in the hackneyed metaphor which their dear writer, were she here, would forbid – a dagger to my heart. To know that Marianne was in town was – in the same language – a thunderbolt. – Thunderbolts and daggers! – what a reproof would she have given me! – her taste, her opinions – I believe they are better known to me than my own, – and I am sure they are dearer.