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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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"
Am
I
a
liar
in
your
eyes
?
"
he
asked
passionately
.
"
Little
sceptic
,
you
shall
be
convinced
.
What
love
have
I
for
Miss
Ingram
?
None
:
and
that
you
know
.
What
love
has
she
for
me
?
None
:
as
I
have
taken
pains
to
prove
:
I
caused
a
rumour
to
reach
her
that
my
fortune
was
not
a
third
of
what
was
supposed
,
and
after
that
I
presented
myself
to
see
the
result
;
it
was
coldness
both
from
her
and
her
mother
.
I
would
not
--
I
could
not
--
marry
Miss
Ingram
.
You
--
you
strange
,
you
almost
unearthly
thing
!
--
I
love
as
my
own
flesh
.
You
--
poor
and
obscure
,
and
small
and
plain
as
you
are
--
I
entreat
to
accept
me
as
a
husband
.
"
"
What
,
me
!
"
I
ejaculated
,
beginning
in
his
earnestness
--
and
especially
in
his
incivility
--
to
credit
his
sincerity
:
"
me
who
have
not
a
friend
in
the
world
but
you
--
if
you
are
my
friend
:
not
a
shilling
but
what
you
have
given
me
?
"
"
You
,
Jane
,
I
must
have
you
for
my
own
--
entirely
my
own
.
Will
you
be
mine
?
Say
yes
,
quickly
.
"
"
Mr.
Rochester
,
let
me
look
at
your
face
:
turn
to
the
moonlight
.
"
"
Why
?
"
"
Because
I
want
to
read
your
countenance
--
turn
!
"
"
There
!
you
will
find
it
scarcely
more
legible
than
a
crumpled
,
scratched
page
.
Read
on
:
only
make
haste
,
for
I
suffer
.
"
His
face
was
very
much
agitated
and
very
much
flushed
,
and
there
were
strong
workings
in
the
features
,
and
strange
gleams
in
the
eyes
.
"
Oh
,
Jane
,
you
torture
me
!
"
he
exclaimed
.
"
With
that
searching
and
yet
faithful
and
generous
look
,
you
torture
me
!
"
"
How
can
I
do
that
?
If
you
are
true
,
and
your
offer
real
,
my
only
feelings
to
you
must
be
gratitude
and
devotion
--
they
can
not
torture
.
"
