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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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He
spread
the
pictures
before
him
,
and
again
surveyed
them
alternately
.
While
he
is
so
occupied
,
I
will
tell
you
,
reader
,
what
they
are
:
and
first
,
I
must
premise
that
they
are
nothing
wonderful
.
The
subjects
had
,
indeed
,
risen
vividly
on
my
mind
.
As
I
saw
them
with
the
spiritual
eye
,
before
I
attempted
to
embody
them
,
they
were
striking
;
but
my
hand
would
not
second
my
fancy
,
and
in
each
case
it
had
wrought
out
but
a
pale
portrait
of
the
thing
I
had
conceived
.
These
pictures
were
in
water-colours
.
The
first
represented
clouds
low
and
livid
,
rolling
over
a
swollen
sea
:
all
the
distance
was
in
eclipse
;
so
,
too
,
was
the
foreground
;
or
rather
,
the
nearest
billows
,
for
there
was
no
land
.
One
gleam
of
light
lifted
into
relief
a
half-submerged
mast
,
on
which
sat
a
cormorant
,
dark
and
large
,
with
wings
flecked
with
foam
;
its
beak
held
a
gold
bracelet
set
with
gems
,
that
I
had
touched
with
as
brilliant
tints
as
my
palette
could
yield
,
and
as
glittering
distinctness
as
my
pencil
could
impart
.
Sinking
below
the
bird
and
mast
,
a
drowned
corpse
glanced
through
the
green
water
;
a
fair
arm
was
the
only
limb
clearly
visible
,
whence
the
bracelet
had
been
washed
or
torn
.
The
second
picture
contained
for
foreground
only
the
dim
peak
of
a
hill
,
with
grass
and
some
leaves
slanting
as
if
by
a
breeze
.
Beyond
and
above
spread
an
expanse
of
sky
,
dark
blue
as
at
twilight
:
rising
into
the
sky
was
a
woman
's
shape
to
the
bust
,
portrayed
in
tints
as
dusk
and
soft
as
I
could
combine
.
The
dim
forehead
was
crowned
with
a
star
;
the
lineaments
below
were
seen
as
through
the
suffusion
of
vapour
;
the
eyes
shone
dark
and
wild
;
the
hair
streamed
shadowy
,
like
a
beamless
cloud
torn
by
storm
or
by
electric
travail
.
On
the
neck
lay
a
pale
reflection
like
moonlight
;
the
same
faint
lustre
touched
the
train
of
thin
clouds
from
which
rose
and
bowed
this
vision
of
the
Evening
Star
.
The
third
showed
the
pinnacle
of
an
iceberg
piercing
a
polar
winter
sky
:
a
muster
of
northern
lights
reared
their
dim
lances
,
close
serried
,
along
the
horizon
.
Throwing
these
into
distance
,
rose
,
in
the
foreground
,
a
head
,
--
a
colossal
head
,
inclined
towards
the
iceberg
,
and
resting
against
it
.
Two
thin
hands
,
joined
under
the
forehead
,
and
supporting
it
,
drew
up
before
the
lower
features
a
sable
veil
,
a
brow
quite
bloodless
,
white
as
bone
,
and
an
eye
hollow
and
fixed
,
blank
of
meaning
but
for
the
glassiness
of
despair
,
alone
were
visible
.
Above
the
temples
,
amidst
wreathed
turban
folds
of
black
drapery
,
vague
in
its
character
and
consistency
as
cloud
,
gleamed
a
ring
of
white
flame
,
gemmed
with
sparkles
of
a
more
lurid
tinge
.
This
pale
crescent
was
"
the
likeness
of
a
kingly
crown
;
"
what
it
diademed
was
"
the
shape
which
shape
had
none
.
"
"
Were
you
happy
when
you
painted
these
pictures
?
"
asked
Mr.
Rochester
presently
.
"
I
was
absorbed
,
sir
:
yes
,
and
I
was
happy
.
To
paint
them
,
in
short
,
was
to
enjoy
one
of
the
keenest
pleasures
I
have
ever
known
.
"
"
That
is
not
saying
much
.
Your
pleasures
,
by
your
own
account
,
have
been
few
;
but
I
daresay
you
did
exist
in
a
kind
of
artist
's
dreamland
while
you
blent
and
arranged
these
strange
tints
.
Did
you
sit
at
them
long
each
day
?
"