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- Джэйн Эйр
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"
Why
not
?
"
I
asked
myself
.
"
What
alienates
him
from
the
house
?
Will
he
leave
it
again
soon
?
Mrs.
Fairfax
said
he
seldom
stayed
here
longer
than
a
fortnight
at
a
time
;
and
he
has
now
been
resident
eight
weeks
.
If
he
does
go
,
the
change
will
be
doleful
.
Suppose
he
should
be
absent
spring
,
summer
,
and
autumn
:
how
joyless
sunshine
and
fine
days
will
seem
!
"
I
hardly
know
whether
I
had
slept
or
not
after
this
musing
;
at
any
rate
,
I
started
wide
awake
on
hearing
a
vague
murmur
,
peculiar
and
lugubrious
,
which
sounded
,
I
thought
,
just
above
me
.
I
wished
I
had
kept
my
candle
burning
:
the
night
was
drearily
dark
;
my
spirits
were
depressed
.
I
rose
and
sat
up
in
bed
,
listening
.
The
sound
was
hushed
.
I
tried
again
to
sleep
;
but
my
heart
beat
anxiously
:
my
inward
tranquillity
was
broken
.
The
clock
,
far
down
in
the
hall
,
struck
two
.
Just
then
it
seemed
my
chamber-door
was
touched
;
as
if
fingers
had
swept
the
panels
in
groping
a
way
along
the
dark
gallery
outside
.
I
said
,
"
Who
is
there
?
"
Nothing
answered
.
I
was
chilled
with
fear
.
All
at
once
I
remembered
that
it
might
be
Pilot
,
who
,
when
the
kitchen-door
chanced
to
be
left
open
,
not
unfrequently
found
his
way
up
to
the
threshold
of
Mr.
Rochester
's
chamber
:
I
had
seen
him
lying
there
myself
in
the
mornings
.
The
idea
calmed
me
somewhat
:
I
lay
down
.
Silence
composes
the
nerves
;
and
as
an
unbroken
hush
now
reigned
again
through
the
whole
house
,
I
began
to
feel
the
return
of
slumber
.
But
it
was
not
fated
that
I
should
sleep
that
night
.
A
dream
had
scarcely
approached
my
ear
,
when
it
fled
affrighted
,
scared
by
a
marrow-freezing
incident
enough
.
This
was
a
demoniac
laugh
--
low
,
suppressed
,
and
deep
--
uttered
,
as
it
seemed
,
at
the
very
keyhole
of
my
chamber
door
.
The
head
of
my
bed
was
near
the
door
,
and
I
thought
at
first
the
goblin-laugher
stood
at
my
bedside
--
or
rather
,
crouched
by
my
pillow
:
but
I
rose
,
looked
round
,
and
could
see
nothing
;
while
,
as
I
still
gazed
,
the
unnatural
sound
was
reiterated
:
and
I
knew
it
came
from
behind
the
panels
.
My
first
impulse
was
to
rise
and
fasten
the
bolt
;
my
next
,
again
to
cry
out
,
"
Who
is
there
?
"
Something
gurgled
and
moaned
.
Ere
long
,
steps
retreated
up
the
gallery
towards
the
third-storey
staircase
:
a
door
had
lately
been
made
to
shut
in
that
staircase
;
I
heard
it
open
and
close
,
and
all
was
still
.
"
Was
that
Grace
Poole
?
and
is
she
possessed
with
a
devil
?
"
thought
I.
Impossible
now
to
remain
longer
by
myself
:
I
must
go
to
Mrs.
Fairfax
.
I
hurried
on
my
frock
and
a
shawl
;
I
withdrew
the
bolt
and
opened
the
door
with
a
trembling
hand
.
There
was
a
candle
burning
just
outside
,
and
on
the
matting
in
the
gallery
.
I
was
surprised
at
this
circumstance
:
but
still
more
was
I
amazed
to
perceive
the
air
quite
dim
,
as
if
filled
with
smoke
;
and
,
while
looking
to
the
right
hand
and
left
,
to
find
whence
these
blue
wreaths
issued
,
I
became
further
aware
of
a
strong
smell
of
burning
.
Something
creaked
:
it
was
a
door
ajar
;
and
that
door
was
Mr.
Rochester
's
,
and
the
smoke
rushed
in
a
cloud
from
thence
.
I
thought
no
more
of
Mrs.
Fairfax
;
I
thought
no
more
of
Grace
Poole
,
or
the
laugh
:
in
an
instant
,
I
was
within
the
chamber
.
Tongues
of
flame
darted
round
the
bed
:
the
curtains
were
on
fire
.
In
the
midst
of
blaze
and
vapour
,
Mr.
Rochester
lay
stretched
motionless
,
in
deep
sleep
.