-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Шарлотта Бронте
-
- Джэйн Эйр
-
- Стр. 277/445
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Sir
,
depend
on
it
,
my
nerves
were
not
in
fault
;
the
thing
was
real
:
the
transaction
actually
took
place
.
"
"
And
your
previous
dreams
,
were
they
real
too
?
Is
Thornfield
Hall
a
ruin
?
Am
I
severed
from
you
by
insuperable
obstacles
?
Am
I
leaving
you
without
a
tear
--
without
a
kiss
--
without
a
word
?
"
"
Not
yet
.
"
"
Am
I
about
to
do
it
?
Why
,
the
day
is
already
commenced
which
is
to
bind
us
indissolubly
;
and
when
we
are
once
united
,
there
shall
be
no
recurrence
of
these
mental
terrors
:
I
guarantee
that
.
"
"
Mental
terrors
,
sir
!
I
wish
I
could
believe
them
to
be
only
such
:
I
wish
it
more
now
than
ever
;
since
even
you
can
not
explain
to
me
the
mystery
of
that
awful
visitant
.
"
"
And
since
I
can
not
do
it
,
Jane
,
it
must
have
been
unreal
.
"
"
But
,
sir
,
when
I
said
so
to
myself
on
rising
this
morning
,
and
when
I
looked
round
the
room
to
gather
courage
and
comfort
from
the
cheerful
aspect
of
each
familiar
object
in
full
daylight
,
there
--
on
the
carpet
--
I
saw
what
gave
the
distinct
lie
to
my
hypothesis
,
--
the
veil
,
torn
from
top
to
bottom
in
two
halves
!
"
I
felt
Mr.
Rochester
start
and
shudder
;
he
hastily
flung
his
arms
round
me
.
"
Thank
God
!
"
he
exclaimed
,
"
that
if
anything
malignant
did
come
near
you
last
night
,
it
was
only
the
veil
that
was
harmed
.
Oh
,
to
think
what
might
have
happened
!
"
He
drew
his
breath
short
,
and
strained
me
so
close
to
him
,
I
could
scarcely
pant
.
After
some
minutes
'
silence
,
he
continued
,
cheerily
--
"
Now
,
Janet
,
I
'll
explain
to
you
all
about
it
.
It
was
half
dream
,
half
reality
.
A
woman
did
,
I
doubt
not
,
enter
your
room
:
and
that
woman
was
--
must
have
been
--
Grace
Poole
.
You
call
her
a
strange
being
yourself
:
from
all
you
know
,
you
have
reason
so
to
call
her
--
what
did
she
do
to
me
?
what
to
Mason
?
In
a
state
between
sleeping
and
waking
,
you
noticed
her
entrance
and
her
actions
;
but
feverish
,
almost
delirious
as
you
were
,
you
ascribed
to
her
a
goblin
appearance
different
from
her
own
:
the
long
dishevelled
hair
,
the
swelled
black
face
,
the
exaggerated
stature
,
were
figments
of
imagination
;
results
of
nightmare
:
the
spiteful
tearing
of
the
veil
was
real
:
and
it
is
like
her
.
I
see
you
would
ask
why
I
keep
such
a
woman
in
my
house
:
when
we
have
been
married
a
year
and
a
day
,
I
will
tell
you
;
but
not
now
.
Are
you
satisfied
,
Jane
?
Do
you
accept
my
solution
of
the
mystery
?
"
