Nor am I even so little selfish as you are.

I think if you were my wife that I could make you happy; but I feel sure that my happiness depends on your being my wife." She looked up into his face, but it was still serene in all its manly beauty.

Her cousin George, if he were moved to strong feeling, showed it at once in his eyes,--in his mouth, in the whole visage of his countenance.

He glared in his anger, and was impassioned in his love.
But Mr Grey when speaking of the happiness of his entire life, when confessing that it was now at stake with a decision against him that would be ruinous to it, spoke without a quiver in his voice, and had no more sign of passion in his face than if he were telling his gardener to move a rose tree.
"I hope--and believe that you will find your happiness elsewhere, Mr Grey." "Well; we can but differ, Alice.

In that we do differ.