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- Джэйн Эйр
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"
I
do
;
especially
when
I
've
customers
like
you
to
deal
with
.
Why
do
n't
you
tremble
?
"
"
I
'm
not
cold
.
"
"
Why
do
n't
you
turn
pale
?
"
"
I
am
not
sick
.
"
"
Why
do
n't
you
consult
my
art
?
"
"
I
'm
not
silly
.
"
The
old
crone
"
nichered
"
a
laugh
under
her
bonnet
and
bandage
;
she
then
drew
out
a
short
black
pipe
,
and
lighting
it
began
to
smoke
.
Having
indulged
a
while
in
this
sedative
,
she
raised
her
bent
body
,
took
the
pipe
from
her
lips
,
and
while
gazing
steadily
at
the
fire
,
said
very
deliberately
--
"
You
are
cold
;
you
are
sick
;
and
you
are
silly
.
"
"
Prove
it
,
"
I
rejoined
.
"
I
will
,
in
few
words
.
You
are
cold
,
because
you
are
alone
:
no
contact
strikes
the
fire
from
you
that
is
in
you
.
You
are
sick
;
because
the
best
of
feelings
,
the
highest
and
the
sweetest
given
to
man
,
keeps
far
away
from
you
.
You
are
silly
,
because
,
suffer
as
you
may
,
you
will
not
beckon
it
to
approach
,
nor
will
you
stir
one
step
to
meet
it
where
it
waits
you
.
"
She
again
put
her
short
black
pipe
to
her
lips
,
and
renewed
her
smoking
with
vigour
.
