"Such an extraordinary dream of mine!" he cried. "I can never think of it without laughing.--She hears us, she hears us, Miss Woodhouse. I see it in her cheek, her smile, her vain attempt to frown. Look at her. Do not you see that, at this instant, the very passage of her own letter, which sent me the report, is passing under her eye-- that the whole blunder is spread before her--that she can attend to nothing else, though pretending to listen to the others?"