دانلود رمان انگلیسی “مهتاب خانم دارسی”، تعصب غرور

The fetid smell of tallow and sweat hit his nostrils with the strength of a filthy chicken coop. The musicians stopped playing, and the dancing plebeians halted abruptly mid-step and turned their mercenary eyes towards the new arrivals—mainly him. To avoid being dragged into insipid conversation—or worse, being introduced to marriage-minded maidens and their mercenary mamas—he avoided their probing eyes and spoke not a word. Rejoicing in his success, he deliberately separated from the amiable and sociable Bingley, disregarding the tattle about his fortune—ten thousand a year was a gross understatement. Strolling leisurely about the outskirts of the room, circumventing the advancing Miss Bingley, he spent half an hour beside a matron who was easily deterred from conversing by his fierce scowl. When his joints began to ache from disuse, he set out for another turn about the room, until his luck ran out. Silent as a snake in the grass, his friend startled him with his presence. “May I introduce you to my partner’s sister?” Bingley proposed with the exuberance of a puppy. “She is a pretty girl, sitting over there, by the refreshment table.” Darcy turned slowly in the appointed direction and saw neither beauty nor fashion. Of course, it would be one of the country bumpkins who could not even entice the butcher’s son to engage her for a set. “Which of the mousy misses in desperate need of a partner do you mean?” slipped out of his mouth before he had the wherewithal to disabuse his friend of the notion that he was remotely interested. Bingley had danced with the only beautiful girl in the room, and plain curiosity drove him to review his friend’s suggestion, despite his low expectations.