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- Джэйн Эйр
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"
What
was
the
chief
trade
in
this
place
?
What
did
most
of
the
people
do
?
"
"
Some
were
farm
labourers
;
a
good
deal
worked
at
Mr.
Oliver
's
needle-factory
,
and
at
the
foundry
.
"
"
Did
Mr.
Oliver
employ
women
?
"
"
Nay
;
it
was
men
's
work
.
"
"
And
what
do
the
women
do
?
"
"
I
knaw
n't
,
"
was
the
answer
.
"
Some
does
one
thing
,
and
some
another
.
Poor
folk
mun
get
on
as
they
can
.
"
She
seemed
to
be
tired
of
my
questions
:
and
,
indeed
,
what
claim
had
I
to
importune
her
?
A
neighbour
or
two
came
in
;
my
chair
was
evidently
wanted
.
I
took
leave
.
I
passed
up
the
street
,
looking
as
I
went
at
all
the
houses
to
the
right
hand
and
to
the
left
;
but
I
could
discover
no
pretext
,
nor
see
an
inducement
to
enter
any
.
I
rambled
round
the
hamlet
,
going
sometimes
to
a
little
distance
and
returning
again
,
for
an
hour
or
more
.
Much
exhausted
,
and
suffering
greatly
now
for
want
of
food
,
I
turned
aside
into
a
lane
and
sat
down
under
the
hedge
.
Ere
many
minutes
had
elapsed
,
I
was
again
on
my
feet
,
however
,
and
again
searching
something
--
a
resource
,
or
at
least
an
informant
.
A
pretty
little
house
stood
at
the
top
of
the
lane
,
with
a
garden
before
it
,
exquisitely
neat
and
brilliantly
blooming
.
I
stopped
at
it
.
What
business
had
I
to
approach
the
white
door
or
touch
the
glittering
knocker
?
In
what
way
could
it
possibly
be
the
interest
of
the
inhabitants
of
that
dwelling
to
serve
me
?
Yet
I
drew
near
and
knocked
.
A
mild-looking
,
cleanly-attired
young
woman
opened
the
door
.
In
such
a
voice
as
might
be
expected
from
a
hopeless
heart
and
fainting
frame
--
a
voice
wretchedly
low
and
faltering
--
I
asked
if
a
servant
was
wanted
here
?
"
No
,
"
said
she
;
"
we
do
not
keep
a
servant
.
"
