How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #4
"I don't suppose," said Darcy, "that you would give me the honour of dispensing of this unhappy business alone. I should never forgive myself if your gown were soiled."
"The honour is all yours, Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth thought she detected the slightest smile on his face. She watched as Darcy drew his blade and cut down the two zombies with savage yet dignified movements. He then made quick work of beheading the slaughtered staff, upon which Mr. Bingley politely vomited into his hands. There was no denying Darcy's talents as a warrior. (18.65-67)
See? Mr. Darcy isn't so bad—this is very gentlemanly. Elizabeth doesn't even have to soil her gown getting rid of these unmentionables. Why does she think he's so bad again? Oh, the thing with Jane and Mr. Wickham. That's right.
Quote #5
She kicked open the door and sprang atop the coach. From here Elizabeth could appreciate the full measure of their predicament, for rather than one hundred unmentionables, she now perceived no less than twice that number. The coachman's leg was in the possession of several zombies, who were quite close to getting their teeth on his ankle. Seeing no alternative, Elizabeth brought her sword down upon his thigh—amputating the leg, but saving the man. She picked him up with one arm and lowered him into the coach, where he fainted as blood poured forth from his new stump. Sadly, this action prevented her from saving the second musket man, who had been pulled from his perch. He screamed as the dreadfuls held him down and began to tear organs from his living belly and feast upon them. (27.5)
This is a bad day for the coachman and the musket man, but it's a good day for Elizabeth. Luckily, she's able to get the carriage to London in time for everyone to be welcomed by the Gardiners for dinner that evening. R.I.P., coachman and musket man. We hardly knew ye.
Quote #6
Elizabeth flung her Katana across the dojo, piercing the ninja's chest and pinning him against a wooden column. Elizabeth removed her blindfold and confronted her opponent, who presently clutched the sword handle, gasping for breath. She delivered a vicious blow, penetrating his rib cage, and withdrew her hand—with the ninja's still-beating heart in it. As all but Lady Catherine turned away in disgust, Elizabeth took a bite, letting the blood run down her chin and onto her sparring gown.
"Curious," said Elizabeth, still chewing. "I have tasted many a heart, but I dare say, I find the Japanese ones a bit tender."
Her ladyship left the dojo without giving compliment to Elizabeth's skills. (30.12-14)
Is it rude to rip out the still-beating heart of a lady's ninja? We couldn't find an answer in any of the 19th-century etiquette books we've come across.