Darcy: where do you go, Charles?

Bingley: to the Devil! To any biased sod who'd serve a man a proper drink! ...Wickham. To drink with Wickham.

Darcy: that is ill-advised.

Bingely: do you council me on this now? With who I may and may not consult to drink gin? She loves me still! To what unrelenting misery have I condemned her... on your instruction? Damn you. Damn you and damn everyone who won't put a light in his window and stay up all night damning you!

Oh, Mr. Bingley. Don't worry. She won't be married to that repulsive sod of a man for long.