Bingley took a deep breath, so forcefully as to be audible over the sounds of the horse and carriage. "Miss Jane, you have so nobly endured my innate awkardness up to now; I hope that you have not exhausted your patience with my babbled reassurances that I mean no offense by anything I say.
"When you say that Miss Elizabeth places high and adamant demands upon a prospective husband...would the criteria she maintains include, um, considerations of social class? Would she distance herself with a man she regarded as too far beneath, or too far above? I say this because you--I mean, because I--Oh, bother! I fear I shall dig a pit with my tongue, bury myself in it, and have you dancing a jig of celebration at my disappearance! Heaven help me, what I am trying to say is not really about your sister at all. Can you find it in you not to take offense if I make the most fleeting reference to the unmistakable fact that I happen to have been dropped onto this Earth in a wealthier family than yours? For my reference to this fact, is only meant to dismiss it from having excessive importance.
"Miss Jane..." He gulped, and wiped his brow again. "Miss Jane, if your father should see fit to allow it, would you object--and I abjure you to speak frankly--would you object to my becoming a regular caller? I mean, calling upon you in particular?"