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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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- Стр. 294/445
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Soon
I
heard
him
earnestly
entreating
me
to
be
composed
.
I
said
I
could
not
while
he
was
in
such
a
passion
.
"
But
I
am
not
angry
,
Jane
:
I
only
love
you
too
well
;
and
you
had
steeled
your
little
pale
face
with
such
a
resolute
,
frozen
look
,
I
could
not
endure
it
.
Hush
,
now
,
and
wipe
your
eyes
.
"
His
softened
voice
announced
that
he
was
subdued
;
so
I
,
in
my
turn
,
became
calm
.
Now
he
made
an
effort
to
rest
his
head
on
my
shoulder
,
but
I
would
not
permit
it
.
Then
he
would
draw
me
to
him
:
no
.
"
Jane
!
Jane
!
"
he
said
,
in
such
an
accent
of
bitter
sadness
it
thrilled
along
every
nerve
I
had
;
"
you
do
n't
love
me
,
then
?
It
was
only
my
station
,
and
the
rank
of
my
wife
,
that
you
valued
?
Now
that
you
think
me
disqualified
to
become
your
husband
,
you
recoil
from
my
touch
as
if
I
were
some
toad
or
ape
.
"
These
words
cut
me
:
yet
what
could
I
do
or
I
say
?
I
ought
probably
to
have
done
or
said
nothing
;
but
I
was
so
tortured
by
a
sense
of
remorse
at
thus
hurting
his
feelings
,
I
could
not
control
the
wish
to
drop
balm
where
I
had
wounded
.
"
I
do
love
you
,
"
I
said
,
"
more
than
ever
:
but
I
must
not
show
or
indulge
the
feeling
:
and
this
is
the
last
time
I
must
express
it
.
"
"
The
last
time
,
Jane
!
What
!
do
you
think
you
can
live
with
me
,
and
see
me
daily
,
and
yet
,
if
you
still
love
me
,
be
always
cold
and
distant
?
"
"
No
,
sir
;
that
I
am
certain
I
could
not
;
and
therefore
I
see
there
is
but
one
way
:
but
you
will
be
furious
if
I
mention
it
.
"
"
Oh
,
mention
it
!
If
I
storm
,
you
have
the
art
of
weeping
.
"
"
Mr.
Rochester
,
I
must
leave
you
.
"
