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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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- Стр. 333/445
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She
closed
the
door
,
leaving
me
solus
with
Mr.
St.
John
,
who
sat
opposite
,
a
book
or
newspaper
in
his
hand
.
I
examined
first
,
the
parlour
,
and
then
its
occupant
.
The
parlour
was
rather
a
small
room
,
very
plainly
furnished
,
yet
comfortable
,
because
clean
and
neat
.
The
old-fashioned
chairs
were
very
bright
,
and
the
walnut-wood
table
was
like
a
looking-glass
.
A
few
strange
,
antique
portraits
of
the
men
and
women
of
other
days
decorated
the
stained
walls
;
a
cupboard
with
glass
doors
contained
some
books
and
an
ancient
set
of
china
.
There
was
no
superfluous
ornament
in
the
room
--
not
one
modern
piece
of
furniture
,
save
a
brace
of
workboxes
and
a
lady
's
desk
in
rosewood
,
which
stood
on
a
side-table
:
everything
--
including
the
carpet
and
curtains
--
looked
at
once
well
worn
and
well
saved
.
Mr.
St.
John
--
sitting
as
still
as
one
of
the
dusty
pictures
on
the
walls
,
keeping
his
eyes
fixed
on
the
page
he
perused
,
and
his
lips
mutely
sealed
--
was
easy
enough
to
examine
.
Had
he
been
a
statue
instead
of
a
man
,
he
could
not
have
been
easier
.
He
was
young
--
perhaps
from
twenty-eight
to
thirty
--
tall
,
slender
;
his
face
riveted
the
eye
;
it
was
like
a
Greek
face
,
very
pure
in
outline
:
quite
a
straight
,
classic
nose
;
quite
an
Athenian
mouth
and
chin
.
It
is
seldom
,
indeed
,
an
English
face
comes
so
near
the
antique
models
as
did
his
.
He
might
well
be
a
little
shocked
at
the
irregularity
of
my
lineaments
,
his
own
being
so
harmonious
.
His
eyes
were
large
and
blue
,
with
brown
lashes
;
his
high
forehead
,
colourless
as
ivory
,
was
partially
streaked
over
by
careless
locks
of
fair
hair
.
This
is
a
gentle
delineation
,
is
it
not
,
reader
?
Yet
he
whom
it
describes
scarcely
impressed
one
with
the
idea
of
a
gentle
,
a
yielding
,
an
impressible
,
or
even
of
a
placid
nature
.
Quiescent
as
he
now
sat
,
there
was
something
about
his
nostril
,
his
mouth
,
his
brow
,
which
,
to
my
perceptions
,
indicated
elements
within
either
restless
,
or
hard
,
or
eager
.
He
did
not
speak
to
me
one
word
,
nor
even
direct
to
me
one
glance
,
till
his
sisters
returned
.
Diana
,
as
she
passed
in
and
out
,
in
the
course
of
preparing
tea
,
brought
me
a
little
cake
,
baked
on
the
top
of
the
oven
.
"
Eat
that
now
,
"
she
said
:
"
you
must
be
hungry
.
Hannah
says
you
have
had
nothing
but
some
gruel
since
breakfast
.
"
I
did
not
refuse
it
,
for
my
appetite
was
awakened
and
keen
.
Mr.
Rivers
now
closed
his
book
,
approached
the
table
,
and
,
as
he
took
a
seat
,
fixed
his
blue
pictorial-looking
eyes
full
on
me
.
There
was
an
unceremonious
directness
,
a
searching
,
decided
steadfastness
in
his
gaze
now
,
which
told
that
intention
,
and
not
diffidence
,
had
hitherto
kept
it
averted
from
the
stranger
.
"
You
are
very
hungry
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
am
,
sir
.
"
It
is
my
way
--
it
always
was
my
way
,
by
instinct
--
ever
to
meet
the
brief
with
brevity
,
the
direct
with
plainness
.
